


80: Jackpot

by TheLastFounder



Series: Master of Nothing [12]
Category: Devil May Cry, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Faithful Reimagining of Devil May Cry Lore, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avatar of Death Harry Potter, Balrog is a Chill Guy, Blood and Violence, Brotherly Bonding, Cambions, Cousins, DMC 1-5, Demonic Possession, Devil May Cry (Novel), Embedded Images, End of the World Every Other Week, Eva Lives, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Harry Potter is Dante, Hell, I'm using some of 2, If Vergil is the Deadbeat Dad, Intended to Have Loose Ends, Magic, Master of Death Harry Potter, Not Beta Read, Original Cambions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Dante (Devil May Cry), References to Past Lives, Reincarnated Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Religious Fanaticism, Soft Vergil (Devil May Cry), Sort Of, Sparda is a Miserable Bastard, Sparda is the Legendary Dark Deadbeat, Starscourge (Final Fantasy XV), THANKS AO3, The Templars Kind of Rule the World, They added a Balrog DMC tag literally after I complained, Trust Issues, We Die Like Men, part of a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastFounder/pseuds/TheLastFounder
Summary: Seven Thousand Years after his Ascension, The Avatar of Death is reborn once again, this time as the second son of a legendary Demon and the closest thing to a savior that humanity has.A shame though, that he just can't be bothered anymore, but there's always a reason to get up and do something.With blade in hand, he will save mankind... if people could only stop stabbing him...
Series: Master of Nothing [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1079328
Comments: 32
Kudos: 78





	1. Redgrave

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

_**Forty Years Before The Qliphoth** _

* * *

I always hated it when they ran.

Dragging out a simple bounty that should take no time at all into an entire day wasted chasing scum through the market as they screamed their lungs out for anyone to save them from me.

But this was Red Grave, no one cared who you were, or who wanted you dead.

It was a fact I had learned well in my time here, and one I resolved to change, but for now, I had an asshole to catch.

He ran past Antonio’s in a rush, his cries falling unheard as I surged forward with my left hand aglow a bright scarlet. 

“Stupefy!” I called out in the tense crowds as my spell hit true, Vanderman falling stiff as a statue as I walked ever closer, another bounty off the list and another paycheck.

Lovely.

“You know friend, we could have done this a lot easier, I gave you a chance to surrender.” I said with a snark then as I pulled the man into a sit against a Noodle stand, the owner not even looking at the two of us, nor giving any indication I was even here.

“But no, you had to run. You guys always run…” I said with a smirk as I merely snapped as ropes sprung into existence around my target’s form, the unconscious man instantly restrained and confined as I pulled free my cell phone from my coat. 

“Enzo, I got Vanderman.” I said to my handler as I looked over the man once more, his days of political espionage firmly over as I straightened the lapels of my coat. “Yeah, he ran. I know, fourth this week, but listen-”

I froze then, phone in hand, because I felt that familiar presence on the edge of my senses, that remainder of my Death Sense alerting me to a mass exodus of souls. 

Yep, shouldn’t be too long now, probably a few seconds.

“Yeah, I’m gonna call you back, my other job’s come back up. I’ll bring Vanderman in after I’m done.” I said with a grin as I tucked my phone away and pulled Umbra free from its holster.

“Three.” I pulled the trigger back, the barrel glowing a bright and piercing white as energy flowed from the shotgun like liquid flames.

“Two.” I heard a rumbling from the far edge of the market as the humans just seemed to scatter with no good reason, until I was alone in the market with only my bounty by my side.

“One.” 

“SON OF SPARDA, YOU SHALL DIE!” A giant demon screamed out in an unholy tone as a gigantic goliath of a beast came running down from the Blockbuster, it’s eyes a flaming red as it charged ever closer to me.

I just smiled.

“You’d think you fucks would learn by now.” I said with a chuckle, Umbra coming to point at the demon as it neared the splash zone. 

It was then, when it reached it’s arms out to me, it’s claws coming close enough to snag at my clothes, that I laughed and uttered a single curse. 

“Vivictus.” 

The demon froze then in shock most likely, as a black sludge began to leak from its form as it collapsed to its knees, only for its form to splinter and split apart from a million cuts across its form.

“Jackpot.”

* * *

Dante.

No last name this time, no middle name, I was the demonic equivalent to Madonna, well, if you’re not counting the Immortal being thing and seven thousand years under my belt as setting me too apart from the celebrity darling. 

Does Madonna still make music though? Did she retire already? I should probably-

Anyway, I settled well into this life, and it’s oddities. From growing up with my brother and parents in an oddly satanic manor on the edge of Red Grave City, to my literal demon of a father being locked away in some pit of Hell while my new mother sacrificed herself to save my older brother.

Oh yeah, and I’ve been chased by the armies of Hell for the past eleven years because apparently my dad pissed off some Lucifer wannabe and took over Hell in order to save humanity.

Also, apparently Human-Demon hybrids are forbidden or something, and dear old dad just had to break every single rule of Hell.

Course, with my new family’s lineage buried and every single Demon of Hell out for my blood, I couldn’t exactly stick around or have the luxury of being boring.

So I found work, however much of a hassle it had been.

I always was a good mercenary, but I found that people thought it strange that a fifteen (physically) year old with chalk white hair and only a single name and no history wanted to be a Merc.

So, I played around with some memories of a few politicians, and Harrison Redgrave was born.

Relatively easy to do really, and I even got a commission from the Vatican for every Demon I killed, how they were keeping track, I’m still not overly sure, but their money was good. 

However, I was merely burning time. I knew what was to come after all, an odd comfort considering the difficulty I often faced in my lives, but for once I knew what was to happen.

Forty years from now.

So, I was staking my claim on the world and hunting down idiots and scoundrels for Enzo and killing Demons on the side, or sometimes hunting down Demons for Enzo. 

The man wasn’t too picky on bounties, evident by the fact I once hunted Dick Cheney for a month.

Most painful hunt I've ever been on by far, but most weren't as eventful. 

Honestly, this life was more fun than I’ve had in awhile, and Hell just kept sending more and more goons after me as I kept burning through them.

Eventually, I made a game out of it all, and my score merely kept tallying up with each Demon I slayed.

“SON OF SPARDA!” 

Great, the giant had buddies, now it’s a party.

A horde of the beasts now stood before me, a particularly fearsome looking one even pulling a jagged blade on me as a threat, but it was just adorable to see them try. 

“What great guys you boys are, letting your buddy go first.” I teased as big, dark, and pointy stepped closer with an arm outstretched to my chest.

“YOU WILL SUFFER A MILLION DEATHS FOR YOUR SINS!”

“Personal space pal. Evanesco.” I cast with as much finesse as a food order, yet the Demon still looked shocked as I literally vanished him from existence.

McGonagall never did explain the spell too well, just saying it brought things into ‘Non-being’, but never explaining what vanishing a living being would do.

Probably a bad spell to teach angsty children… Did I vanish Draco..? He kinda disappeared after the Battle… and no one saw him around either… 

Regardless, it was a very insulting way to kill Demons, and with how stupid and oddly holier-than-thou they acted, they deserved to be taken down a peg every so often. 

Smirking once more as a single fleck of the demon’s blood fell to my cheek, its allies frozen in place in either fear or shock. Likely shocked since they weren’t smart enough to know or listen to fear.

“Now then, who’s next?”

* * *

“One more sad fuck for you Enzo.” I said to my handler as I dropped off Vanderman’s bound form, the man’s eyes looking around in shock and panic as he found himself completely and utterly numb.

By design of course, I stopped letting bounties get away ages ago after the chase stopped being fun. 

After all, a chase is different from a pursuit. One means I choose to follow, the other means they’re stupid enough to think they can escape me. 

Wait… that makes no sense.

I’m not exactly as straight-laced as I used to be, it was kinda obvious when I started liking pears again, but it was a gradual thing.

My age started to get to me a bit after I hit five thousand, but thankfully I’m no longer insane, but more often than not people still think I am.

Granted, I assaulted Antonio for getting my order wrong, but the lazy fuck had deserved it and I had gotten some coupons out of it.

“Nicely done Harry, but I already have a new target for you.” Enzo Ferino, information broker and my assassination handler, asked in turn as he sized up the oversized politician at our feet.

He didn’t really say too much about why Vanderman was getting the Redgrave treatment, as Enzo had dubbed it, but politics were always a losing battle for me.

I didn’t care enough to entertain the thoughts of pitiful ponderers and their cult like followers, no matter how much money they had at their disposal. 

However, while Enzo looked pleased as usual, there was a wayward flicker to his gaze.

“Enzo, I sense a But coming along. Get to the point pal.” I said with a hint of aggression in my smile as he just sighed in turn.

“Listen Harry, you’re good. Scarily good, but your next target’s a bit outta your league, so I’ve got you a new partner.” Enzo said with that same smarmy grin of his. That grin meant I was going to be pissed at him later.

“I told you Ferino, no one is out of my league.” I said with a self assured chuckle as he just rolled his eyes at me in turn. 

“Listen Har, I like you too much to send you off alone. I’m not gonna beat around the bush, there’s a big fucking Demon being courted by the Russians and it crushed an entire city just by being summoned.” Enzo said then as he led me forward by the arm, the door to his office swinging open as a man walked out impatiently.

It was a young guy, maybe a bit older than my current form, his features covered almost completely by pristine gauze.

Interesting though, was the ornate katana on his back, that a part of me was VERY interested in. 

Oh yeah, that portion of Dante that’s a demon? It’s kinda like this fraction of a split personality, mostly just coming across as mood swings.

It's kinda like a really sadistic pregnancy, except all the time and calling out for the blood of my enemies rather than a bowl of peanut butter pickles. 

Anyway, Invisible Man over there had a Devil Arm, least if the demonic energies wafting off it like a bad stench were any indicator.

“Harry, this is Gilver. I expect you’ll work well together.”

The man, Gilver (whatever kind of name that was) just laughed this cold, piercing laugh at me as I could only frown in turn. 

“I’m sure we will get along wonderfully.”

* * *

(A Month Later)

* * *

“Dosvedanya!” 

“Just because we’re in Russia doesn’t give you an excuse to peddle bad action lines.” 

“I think it gives me all the excuse I need!” 

Despite the fact Gilver and I had fought tooth and nail as soon as Enzo left us alone together, we worked well together.

Course, since I knew fucking nothing about the man, I wasn’t too willing to show off my tricks, so the overt Magic stayed tucked away.

I had been given partners before, and they always betrayed me sooner or later. However, I did get a small scan of Gilver’s mind, despite how difficult it actually was, and learned he wasn’t going to slit my throat in my sleep anytime soon.

So we got to work, and one Russian Demon turned into fifteen and eventually we were fighting a land war to send the bastards back to Hell in a metal handbasket. 

Evidently, I spent more time frozen to the bone than I did in the fiery pits of Hell.

Pits I had gotten very familiar with, since I couldn’t really die in this life, which had been a rather shocking surprise.

Usually, upon death I became someone else, this time… I woke up in Hell with a sore excuse for a spine, surrounded by Demons spouting off about Sparda.

Still not sure what can actually kill me here, but I just made it my goal to avoid ending up back in Hell.

The place was a drag. 

Now, Gilver and I found ourselves fighting off vaguely Magitek looking soldiers in the capital, the Russian insignia emblazoned on these Demons.

Course, Super Soldiers always had to exist, but why do so many people think that Demon Blood is the key to invincibility? 

Granted, they weren’t too wrong, considering I pulled another blade from my chest with all the ease of clipping my nails, but I had gotten sick of Demon soldiers.

“You got anyone waiting for you back home Gil?” I asked my partner then, the two of us flying back and forth through the air as we decimated the enemy forces.

He and I had worked together for a bit now, but we hadn’t really gotten too into detail about each other, usually preferring to work rather than chat.

“I lost everyone that mattered a long time ago.” Gilver said with a desolate tone as he sliced another Demons to shreds, the poor thing barely even registering the swing before it crumpled to sludge. 

“Yeah, I know the feeling buddy, but you can’t let it get you down.” I said with a grin as I pulled a Demon to me with a flick of the wrist, the passive energies of my magic ripping the beast through the air at me.

With a single swing of Godric, I sliced the beast into two as the sludge covered my body with yet another layer of grime, my blade’s burning edge illuminated with the blood of my enemies. 

“You talk so passively of loss Harrison.” Gilver observed as he leapt over me, his own blade coming to terms with another of the monsters, a shockwave echoing off as he sent it flying into pieces. 

“Yeah, you get used to it.”

“How can you eat this garbage?” Gilver asked in a puzzle manner, his bandages unraveled around his mouth as I forced him to endure another slice.

Granted, the pizza here wasn’t as good as back home, Antonio’s bitching aside, but it wasn’t the gruel that Gilver made it out to be.

“Meh, I can’t cook and I gave up on alcohol. Pizza’s a good alternative.” I said with a shrug as I leaned back in my seat, the ruined restaurant around us being paid no mind, nor were the demons that kept interrupting paid any attention aside from a quick swipe or a flaming shot courtesy of Umbra. 

“So you blame your laziness for your poor habits. I understand you so much better Harrison.” Gilver said with disdain as he dropped the slice back onto his plate, a single pepperoni going flying off as he sat back. 

“I’ve said it before Gil, you can call me Harry.” I said casually as I sent a surge of magic into Umbra, the chamber automatically reloading as I picked up another slice, Gilver just staring at me in shock as I went in for more. 

“And I have told you countless times Harrison, I loath nicknames.” 

Of course Enzo had to get the most stick in the mud bastard to ever exist, to join me in my crusade. 

“Whatever you say Gil.”

“I hate that name.” Gilver said with a pout then as the sole working light in the building sputtered out, but we just stayed there as we had already filled our quota for the day. 

“Then maybe don’t have a weird ass name like Gilver? It’s awful and it physically pains me to say it.” I said with a drawl as I waved my pizza slice at him, a small clump of sauce flying off to land an inch from Gilver’s emerald coat.

Aside from the annoyed look he gave me, Gilver sat there in silence as I looked back at him in confusion.

“You okay there Samurai?” I asked as I set my meal aside, Gilver’s blue eyes looking back at me suddenly as he loosened his grip on his blade. 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Then what am I supposed to call you, since I’m not calling you goddamn Gilver.” 

More silence then as the Demon tides seemed to slow and we were left alone once more, the two of sitting in a town of desolation, the only living beings around for miles.

“You can call me V.”

* * *

(Half a Year of Demon Slaying Later)

* * *

“Well look who it is, the Prodigal son of a bitch that never pays.” An aged voice said warmly as I walked through the glass doors, the proprietor of .45 Caliber Works greeting my gaze.

“Nell Goldstein, you old trigger happy bitch, how the hell are you?” I said with a genuine grin as I settled on a stool by Nell’s workbench, the old woman barely taking notice of my presence as she shuffled papers.

“Gonna finally pay me for Umbra?” She asked with a smirk as my gaze fell on my pride and joy. The unholy amalgamation of a Sawed-Off Shotgun and Revolver, Umbra had been a comfortable and trusted companion long before Enzo had stuck me with V. 

“Now my dear, I do believe we agreed on a trade agreement. I supply the Demon guts, you build stuff for me despite the fact you’d do it anyway.” I said with a grin as Nell near about pulled her own gun on me, her eyes piercing and sharp before placing it aside.

“What have I said about back talking to me Harry?” She asked me with a casual glance as she began searching below the bench, junk and busted guns being thrown aside with no regard for where they landed. 

“I do believe the last time I did, you threatened to rip my balls off and use them as a muzzle for your rifle.” I recalled with a grin as Nell’s smile grew ever larger, the sadistic bitch. 

“And don’t think that just because you’re a beast and I’m older than sin that I won’t keep my word.” She said with no small amount of gruff as she finally found what she was looking for, pulling free an ornate case from beneath the horrid mess she called a desk.

“A gift? Oh Nellie, you shouldn’t have.” I said with glee as I took the box from her, the lid popping out to reveal a gorgeous pistol within, the metal gleaming in the lamp light as I rubbed my palm against the grip.

“Call me Nellie again and you'll be begging me to kill you.” She said with a chuckle as she pointed to the beautiful pistol, something akin to true pride in her tone.

“Considering you’re still carrying Umbra, say hello to it’s kick ass virgin of a brother, I call it Lux.” 

With a grin I pulled Umbra free of its holster, the shotgun’s weight familiar and lovely as I held it free handed, my newest toy falling into ease on the opposite side.

I may have powers beyond understanding, all but including surviving the literal destruction of the universe, but this right here… Holding these beautiful works of art in my hands?

It felt real fucking good. 

“You’ve really outdone yourself Nell.” I said with a smirk as I tucked the guns away, Lux forming it’s own holster under my coat as I tucked it away on my chest, it’s brother sitting comfortably at my waist. 

“You better make your next shipment a good one.” Nell said with a growl as she lit up a cigar, and I just laughed in turn.

“Just for you Nell, I’ll bag something special.” I said with a smile as I waved to her, my feet already heading out the door as I let the nightlife of Redgrave wash over me. 

“Special better be worth fifty thousand…”

* * *

**(Within Hell Itself)**

* * *

“You can’t keep me here forever.” A wise and sharp voice called out in the dark as a figure loomed from within a cage, a blazing red eye lingering on a wall not too far from them.

“YOU HAVE SERVED YOUR PURPOSE.” 

The figure just laughed then, his eyes rolling as he once more reached the edge of his cage, the bars glowing with the holy light of a thousand suns. 

“You know I’ll get out.” 

“THEN I SHALL PUNISH YOU.” The booming voice of his captor said as the prisoner merely smiled in turn, a chair forming out of thin air as he took a seat.

“Afraid that’s not going to happen pal, I’m a married man.” 

And with that, he turned away from the leering eye, and he began to wait once more, the years mere seconds for him as he gazed into the void and the void gazed back.

However, he was no mere mortal staring into oblivion.

He was the Dark Knight, and powerless or not, he would not be contained. 

Looking to his left hand, he had a flash of a castle within his mind, and he smiled as he sat back, the decades flowing by him as he sat isolated from both time and morality. 

“All is well.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slayer's Note:  
> I wanted to play in the Devil's Sandbox as it were, and an idea began to emerge.  
> This starts within the Devil May Cry prequel novel, where he's still Tony Redgrave (Harrison in this case), and will go all the way to DMC V. (Excluding 2, because even I'm not creative enough to do something with 2.) This will be an AU, and by the time we get to DMC V, it could be radically different from the game we know.  
> Hope you all enjoyed.


	2. Roots

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

Despite how long I had been running over this world, I hadn’t really set down any roots yet, not even buying a home.

I don’t know why I didn’t, considering I could easily get enough for a manor or estate at this point, and could ward the place to Hell and back. 

I don’t know, maybe it was just how much I had done over the years and lives, but I just didn’t care as much as I used to.

I still preferred fine clothing, the one Merc in a suit among a crowd of ballistic gear junkies working under Enzo, but I didn’t look at a mansion and see it as a goal anymore.

I felt the emptiness of a large home now, knew how lonely it could get, being the only one in an estate paid for in blood.

So, despite the money the Vatican was practically pushing on me, I still found myself spending my nights in a crappy apartment, the front door held on by magic alone.

Of course I warded the hell out of the place, and I doubt anywhere but Hogwarts was more protected from Demons.

Despite the state of my living, I did splurge on my mattress.

You don’t fuck with my sleep, as that’s all it takes me to cut a bitch. 

“Harrison, your phone has been ringing excessively. I believe someone is trying to contact you.” 

Ah, V. 

Enzo had assigned the man to be my partner earlier in the year, and V had taken it to an extreme, almost never leaving my side. I had been puzzled by it, since I seemed to annoy the hell out of him (It was intentional), and yet he stayed… In my apartment as well, because it seems V was a kindred spirit, not having a home of his own either.

While I would have once turned him away, I wanted some company now and then, so I now had a mummy for a roommate.

Wonderful. 

“My phone is silenced V, it means I’m ignoring it.” I groaned out as I rose from my bed, the sight of V leaning against my dresser clear to see, those damn bandages still hiding his face.

I was starting to wonder what the man was hiding, and since I couldn’t get back into his mind (Which had been odd, since I hadn’t run into someone with Occlumency in ages), I was resolved to waiting for V to tell me in his own time.

“It was likely Enzo, he has also called me. He would like our assistance tracking down your previous partner.” V said with a small smirk as I just stared at him in hatred, my closet wide open as I approached. 

Pulling a crimson suit from it’s hanger, I let out a snap, my pajama pants instantly being replaced by the suit, the crimson coat hanging off my frame with a sharp cut. 

V merely scoffed as I slipped my sneakers on, my hand held outward as Godric and my guns flew in from the bathroom, my holsters materializing as my weapons found their respective spots on my form. 

“Are you quite finished Harrison?” V said in a tone one could describe as whining as I stared back at him with a wide grin on my face. 

“V, you can’t interrupt the Sailor Moon moment, you gotta let me do my thing.” 

He just looked at me then, like I was the most idiotic, insufferable being to ever walk the Earth.

Death would probably agree that I was. 

“Why do I even bother with you?” He asked me then as I made for the door, Godric letting loose a gust of flame in excitement. 

“Because you’re homeless.”

* * *

Grue Kamiya, the man that had been my partner in crime for over two years, and hadn’t complained too much about being forced to team up with a fifteen year old with a shotgun, and I didn’t give him too much grief as a result.

He had become a true friend over time, and I was even introduced to his daughters, one of which he would not cease in trying to set me up with, despite my protests.

However, not long before V had arrived on the scene, Grue had simply vanished, only a letter left behind to ask me to care for his daughters.

Which, honestly was a dick move of him, considering I wasn’t parental material in the slightest, despite all the lives and legacies I had lived, and the fact that I was almost as young as his kids were.

However, I had more money than I was honestly using, so I ensured they were taken care of until I could drag their asshole of a father back home.

However, seems I’d be getting a chance, as Enzo actually brought up Grue after almost a year of radio silence.

V had stepped out of the bar, Bobby’s Cellar left once more to my handler and I as Enzo wasn’t smiling for once, a folder set down between the two of us.

I merely picked up and began to purvey it, taking notice of the grainy photographs of Grue in different locations, obviously not in Red Grave… and one of him praying at an altar… 

I just looked up at Enzo then, the man just nodded along as I kept reading, and my heart sunk just the smallest bit.

I had seen my fair share of cults, and of course, it had to be worse. A fucking Demon Cult.

The Order of Ipos, a supposedly all knowing demon that once served as a Prince of Hell before Sparda’s uprising.

This Order worshiped Ipos out of some belief that if they broke the Seal between Earth and Hell and summoned him to Earth, he would gift them with the knowledge of any and everything, infinite knowledge. 

“Why did he join them?” I asked Enzo then, the folder forgotten as I only wondered about Grue. The man had been honorable, brave, and had put down his fair share of demons. He wouldn’t have just abandoned his beloved daughters to go join a cult… 

“You know about his daughter? The eldest?” 

Of course, Jessica, she had been going to school for something or another before falling ill, but I could have sworn she was fine. 

“What about her?” 

“She’s been cursed. I don’t know by what, but it's definitely from down below. I could only assume that he joined them for the same reason as the rest of them, to get knowledge.” Enzo said with some regret as he took the folder back, and I could only grimace. 

“You think he joined to learn how to break the curse.”

Enzo just nodded as I sat there, the image of my former friend kneeling at the altar of some dark god in the hopes of saving his daughter’s life, forever burned into my memory… 

I had met plenty of demons thus far, even ones that thought they were something special, and they never kept their word… but I understood desperation, likely better than anyone else.

I could understand why Grue had joined up, and that made all of this so much worse. 

“Do you know where he is?” 

It was then that Enzo pulled another photograph from the folder, one I hadn’t gotten to yet.

It was obviously Grue, his blonde hair greasy and wild on his hair, his skin cracking and flaking, his eyes glowing in the light of the camera. In the background was the recognizable sight of Saint Augustine Hospital, which meant my former partner was back in town, and if that wasn’t bad enough, he was probably possessed… 

“I’ll find him.” I said with a snarl, Umbra flying into my hand as I bust back out of the bar, V following on my heels like a shadow as we walked off into the night. 

“I need to kill something.”

* * *

I didn’t believe things could get any worse, and I definitely didn’t say that aloud (Jinxes and all), but of course the entire city had to be struck by an earthquake. 

One moment V was relaxing on the hood of my car, watching me take out my frustrations on a horde of innocent (In this case) demons that had just recently risen, only to be sent screaming back to Hell. 

The next? My car had flown into a pawn shop and the city was damn near turning upside down, the ground shaking as what seemed to be roots began to pierce up through the cement.

My surprise surpassed, I looked off into the distance and noticed a blazing white light emerging from the Hospital, and I knew that this was one of those apocalyptic situations.

Too bad my car was trashed, and the day just seemed to be getting worse.

Helping V to his feet, we turned as a swarm of demons appeared before us, and not small fry like those I had been slaughtering. These held motivation in their eyes, and a blood thirst in their jaws. 

“Hope you didn’t have anything on the calendar V.” I said with a snarl, drawing Godric in a second as the great sword burst into flames, the distinct roar of a lion blasting out into the night as I held it to our foes.

To my side, V pulled his katana free and seemingly struck a pose, his eyes were still annoyed and piercing, even as blue flames began to circle around the blade. 

“I threw out my calendar as soon as I met you Harrison.” 

“Great, now let’s save the goddamn world.”

* * *

I had fought entire armies, had toppled civilizations, and had burnt entire worlds to a crisp.

And yet, the slog of violence that I endured as I fought my way to the hospital, V at my side as we battled all that Hell could throw at us, was somehow worse than all of that.

We were losing time, I could see that as the sky brightened to a chalk white then, what looked like a tree sapling busting out of the building’s roof as we fought our way closer.

We didn’t speak or even banter as we fought together, our determination palpable as we cleaved through wave after wave of demons, floor after floor passing us by as we ascended onward into the hospital.

Despite how little we knew of what was going on, I knew this had to do with Grue, and I had a feeling about where to go.

Room 307, the room Jessica Kamiya had been assigned to, and the door was wide open and the room dark as pitch.

Holding Godric out, much like one would with a torch, I stepped forward into the room.

V merely stepped in my wake, his blade held high in a block as we stepped further into complete darkness, the sound of the door slamming shut behind us as loud as a gunshot. 

“Grue. I know you’re here. I could have helped her, you just had to tell me…” I said aloud then as I circled in the dark, V at my back as we searched for any sign of the possessed mercenary. 

“I’m afraid Mr. Kamiya is gone now.” That chillingly familiar said aloud then, a desk lamp flicking on as I took in the sight of my friend, his skin looking more like gravel than flesh as he stared back at me.

He sat comfortably in a chair beside a cot, Jessica’s pale and lifeless form lying on the mattress, what appeared to be an unholy tree sprouting out of her chest.

His eyes shone with an otherwordly light, azure and bright.

_Ipos, The All-Knowing_

The sheets were soaked with her blood as the Demon looked back at me with a lazy grin, his hands literally caked in crimson.

I snarled then, but did take notice of one little fact.

She was still alive, in clear agony, but alive.

“That… You let the Qliphoth sprout from within her…” V said then, stepping forward as his stoic look fell away, a hint of… disgust in his voice.

“You sick bastard…” 

The Qliphoth, the unholy inspiration for the mythical Yggdrasil, and the means to turn a demon into a god.

Older than the Underworld itself and holding the means to force the Human World together with it’s dark counterpart, it was a Demon Hunter’s worst nightmare.

“Harrison, is it? Interesting that you chose to use your actual name, rather than the one you were given in this realm. Eva’s words gave you permission, did they not?” Grue… Ipos said aloud then, as I knew what he meant. Seems his claims of infinite knowledge weren’t too off course, considering he was able to see through me.

“Let me guess, you want to pull a Mundus and eat the fruit?” I asked then as I kept my distance from the demon lord, my eyes locking with Jessica’s as I saw the tears that filled them. 

“Correct, though I will not use its power in such a foolish manner as Mundus did. My goal is much more… personal than mere conquest.” Ipos said then as he stepped, his footsteps light and hollow as he came ever closer to us, Godric burning away in my hand as I waited for the fight I knew was coming. 

“It is fitting that you would confront me here, as I stand so close to my true goal. You see, Sons of Sparda, I wish to kill your father.” Ipos said with a ravenous laugh as V stiffened beside me, but I didn’t dwell on it.

Yeah, Ipos wasn’t done with his whole monologue thing, but I was having a real bad day.

So I fucking stabbed him.

And he choke slammed me, the sheer force of the blow knocking me clear off my feet and out the wall of the hospital, the pearly daylight streaming into the darkness.

“I believe the stage is yours.” Ipos said then, his gaze locked firmly on V as my partner readied himself.

However, one measly slam with enough force to shatter an entire skeleton wasn’t enough to put me down as I apparated behind the demon lord, a savage grin on my face as I drove Godric straight through his heart. 

I did this with no hesitation, as I had felt his essence the moment he had revealed himself, and Grue Kamiya was long ago, only an empty vessel left behind.

V, ever a man of action, took the opportunity of surprise and sunk his blade through Ipos’ skull as a stream of light flooded out of his eyes.

A force unlike any other pushed back against us, Godric feeling like it would shatter under the pressure as we drove our blades clean through the demon’s body.

Then, just as soon as it had all begun, the pressure was gone, as was Ipos, the body burning into a husk as Godric’s flames finally seared it's immortal soul. 

Muttering a prayer under my breath, I turned once more to the daughter of my friend, Jessica’s eyes wide and unseeing as roots began to rip through her torso as the Qliphoth rose ever higher from her heart.

I just turned to V then, my eyes pleading. 

“How do we stop this thing?” 

He just frowned as he looked away from me, his blade tucked away as he looked at her.

“This… is the Qliphoth, it wasn’t meant to be stopped or destroyed, but Ipos didn’t summon it properly. It should have pierced a hole straight into Hell, but instead he channeled it through her…” V said then with a lifeless tone, his eyes sorrowful as I looked back at him with resolve.

I looked back at the girl then, my eyes flickering a magenta shade as I used Mage Sight, a trick I haven’t used in some millenia, but it was all for nothing.

This wasn’t magic, this isn't some curse or thing that could be undone. From within her body and soul, all I saw was the Qliphoth, consuming each and every inch of her as she was alive to feel every single second of it.

She was more tree than person now, as I felt her very life force tied into the roots of the Qliphoth.

I knew what had to be done, and with fury in my veins and a swear to destroy Hell itself, I sheathed Godric and held a hand out to Jessica, my palm glowing a bright green as I laid it on her chest.

She looked at me then, this horrible and sickening look of pain on her face as she silently mouthed words to me, a root having ripped right through her throat, but I knew what she was saying.

_‘Please kill me'_

Putting my emotions in check, I maintained the energies in my palm, and I cast a curse I had sworn never to use again, but it was the best way I could have done this.

Quickly, painlessly, and with as much mercy as I could offer her.

“Avada Kedavra.”

* * *

It was done.

With Jessica’s life ended, I had destroyed the connection Ipos had forged between the worlds, and sent the Qliphoth back down to hell. 

I just felt empty then as I walked out of the hospital, V following behind me as I looked up into the night sky, not a single sign above of what all had happened. 

After some time, I found myself stopping at a bus stop, the bench providing relief as I took a seat.

I never knew how the Death Eaters had used that curse so freely, when it hurt so very bad just to say the words, let alone the horrible energy that left you in order to cast it.

But it was humane, if nothing else.

It was only then that I noticed a heap of bandages resting on the sidewalk, V sitting beside me on the bench.

With some surprise, I looked up at him, and took in his features, oh so familiar.

His hair was a pure white, so very similar to mine, his eyes a cold and impassive blue as he stared back at me, his frown matching the one I wore.

“I don’t know what I expected to say to you when you knew the truth.” He said to me then, his voice so much clearer and lighter with the bandages gone, his hair falling over his eyes as he and I sat there.

“Maybe, hey brother, been a while.” I said quietly in turn as I looked back out to the streets, the withered remains of the Qliphoth’s roots running across them like cracks.

“Hello Dante.” He said then as he looked out as I did, and we just let the world rest for a moment, the two of us reunited after ages apart.

The last time I had seen him, our mother Eva had grabbed him and pulled him out of the manor as I followed behind her, we had been safe… but then I wasn’t there, I was standing on a random street in the middle of Red Grave, my family and my home nowhere to be found as I was alone.

_‘Forget your past’_

But I wasn’t alone anymore, at least for however long I would live in this world, which could be centuries considering demon physiology. 

Despite all the shit I had endured, and not just counting tonight, I managed some sorry excuse for a smile then, my brother as surprised to see it as I was to manage it. 

“Hello Vergil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slayer’s Note:  
> To those that might have not have read the prequel novel, which some people say isn’t canon anymore despite how well it still fits, it does end with Grue’s daughter Jessica being used by a demon, a demonic tree feeding off of her to build a connection between Earth and Hell.  
> The book was written back in 2003, long before DMC V, but the tree that plagued her sounded a hell of a lot like the Qliphoth.  
> In the novel, of course, Vergil or Gilver (Guy used a freaking anagram for a fake name), is a total dick.  
> I’m going in a different direction.


	3. Reunion

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

"So… what have you been doing for the past eleven years?" I asked my newly rediscovered brother as the two of us sat together, the barista being quick to bring my drink as the two of us finished off our staring match.

I had used the excuse of needing caffeine to drag him along, and he had followed behind me as we found a setting more comfortable than a bus stop with rain on the way.

"Taking care of mother for the most part." Vergil said absentmindedly as he stared off through the window before us as I simply stilled in my seat.

"I… I was told she died." I said timidly, as I had. I had hired so many investigators to figure out all that had happened, from what had become of Eva and my brother, and to figure out what had happened on that night.

Of course, I hadn't known that I was a Hybrid at the time, that Sparda was a Demon or that we even had enemies, nor that Demons had attacked the manor that night.

Course, I knew Sparda wasn't entirely human, considering after Eva had fallen asleep after giving birth, Sparda had held me and had asked me what I really was, and what my intentions were.

Knowing it would be better not to get on his bad side, since he had unleashed his energy at the time, I merely placated him with a vision of Death explaining my role as his Avatar.

Sparda had simply accepted it, but Eva… He had never told her, nor told me of what dangers we faced. I still held that against him.

But evidently, not all was as it seemed.

"She was close. We were attacked shortly after we escaped the estate, and she hovered on the edge of death for weeks. I, at the time, assumed she was recovering slowly, but learned she had been infected by the Demons." Vergil said with little emotion as he placed aside his menu as I merely took a brief glance at mine, but I did give him a look to continue.

"I have never seen anything like it, but I knew I couldn't heal her… so I put her in a stasis coma."

The Devil in me roared then, my blood pumping as my vision flared a blazing scarlet as rage overtook me, calling for me to rip Vergil's throat out.

However, suppressing my instincts, I thought about it logically then.

It wasn't too insane. After all, Nora Fries had been in a similar circumstance, and it had saved her in some regard.

"You've put her under until you find someone to cure her." I said then as he just nodded at me in gratitude, obviously expecting me to attack him, however he would never know how close I came to it.

"I believe Father could heal her."

It was then that I just looked away.

Sparda and I had never gotten along, as he had never treated me as his son, merely a danger or possibly an enemy if things went wrong.

He had been unbelievably cold, calculating, and always treated me like a loose trigger, ready to kill any and everyone on a moment's notice.

I had hated the man, and I could only assume the feeling had been mutual, but he had always loved Vergil.

Vergil, the golden son, the one given the magical sword of Sparda's own design.

The Yamato, capable of cutting through any and everything, even space itself.

I admit, I was kind of jealous and salty about that, but things had turned out in my advantage.

I was living life as a free man, and doing whatever I liked, and Sparda was rotting in a pit in Hell.

After all, I was older than any living being in this world, and I didn't need Sparda.

I had outgrown my need for a father, and Sparda had never considered himself mine.

I had only wished he had treated me as an ally.

"So, you know that he's alive." I pitched then as he just stared back at me then, likely wondering about why I had never tried to rescue the man if I knew he lived.

Eva being alive though, I was happy about that. She had never known that I was anything but her child, and she had treated me as such.

She was a good person, evidently as she managed to turn Sparda to the light, or 'awaken him to justice', as I had so often heard over the years.

"Yes, I heard rumblings years ago about his survival, but I didn't know of his imprisonment until recently." Vergil said then as he finally met my eyes, our twin gazes meeting after so very long apart.

"You must help me rescue him, Dante."

"I don't really know about that Vergil. He left mom for dead, he left us as well. Only reason he's probably alive is that he got his ass caught. He might have saved humanity, but even when he was there, he was a terrible father." I said my part then as I took another sip of my horribly overpriced Mocha, desperately wishing it was a Whiskey.

You never really know how hard it is to kick an addiction after you've lived with it for five thousand years.

But hey, I was a little over two thousand years sober, that's progress right there.

Vergil went quiet then, as he likely was thinking over our shared past, and hopefully all he had been blind to.

Vergil had been Sparda's favorite, but he hadn't even had the grace to treat his son right. Sparda had been cold and distant, expecting perfection and nothing less, and Vergil had worked so damn hard to meet his standards.

Sparda had never pushed me to such a degree, and perhaps because he knew my fate did not lie with ruling Hell, as I had learned Sparda was training us for.

He had believed that we were powerful.

Powerful enough to control the forces of Hell, and prevent them from destroying Mankind, as he had planned during Eva's pregnancy.

Until I had been born into this world, and rather than a somewhat normal half Demon baby, he got the reincarnated Avatar of Death.

Have to give it to him, he hadn't been too angry about it, merely upset.

As well, he had isolated us completely. I had not seen a single person outside of my family until that night, and it only made things more difficult. We didn't have birth certificates, social security numbers, anything at all.

I had to pay to have all of that made up, and no one charged a teenager a fair price for forged documents, not for a payday like that.

Vergil probably hadn't had to deal with any of that, as he wasn't the type to care about such trivial things.

"Father… wasn't perfect, but he tried to give us the life that he had never gotten, Dante. He endures torture in Hell to keep us safe." Vergil argued there as I just laughed at how misguided he was.

"Keep us safe? Brother, I get attacked almost every day by Demons. Hell, I didn't even know I was a Hybrid until I got attacked by a Demon that was preaching about how Hybrids were forbidden." I said with a scoff as Vergil merely looked at me in confusion, evidently he had gotten the luck of the draw.

"You… you've been hunted?" He asked then as if he couldn't believe it before looking once more away, likely feeling some form of guilt. "Mother and I, we've been left alone, I had no idea…"

"Least Sparda did something for that poor woman…" I argued as I sat back then, Vergil finally understanding a little more about the father he had idolized, and was at last learning that heroes aren't all they're cracked up to be.

After all, Dumbledore had seemed invincible and all-knowing, until he had died in my arms, begging me to let him drink from the lake…

No hero was immortal, and I stopped being one a long time ago.

"He gave her love, Dante." Vergil said then, actual, human emotion shining in his eyes as he begged me without words to help me rescue our father.

But I was a bitter, old bastard.

"Lot of good that did her."

* * *

We had gone to my apartment then, Vergil arguing the entire bus ride as to why we should invade Hell itself to free its most important prisoner.

I was still kind of pissed about my car, as I had finally worn in the seat enough to make it comfortable…

"Oh fuck, my mix tape was in my car…" I accidentally said aloud then, my realization cutting off Vergil mid sentence.

"What?"

"I left my mix tape in my car, I spent ages working on it, and considering that the Internet's not been invented, it took a lot of work to make it." I argued then as Vergil just looked at me as if I was speaking gibberish, which I guess it was. I kept forgetting it was nineteen seventy-eight, despite how weird this world was.

We had modern cars and motorcycles, but still didn't have a decent MP3 player… Weird world, of that I was even more sure of as the days went by, Hell and Demons notwithstanding.

Hell, even politics were weird in this world. The Bush Administration was in the sixties, Lincoln was assassinated three years ago, and John F. Kennedy was a Founding Father.

I barely understood politics on a good day, and I kinda believed this world was made just to confuse me.

"Well, Ipos has paid for many of his grievances brother, all we can do is move forward and rescue father." Vergil declared then, much to my audible annoyance.

"Look Vergil, I've picked up a few tips and tricks over the years. I want to see mom, and when I do, I'll see if I can do anything to fix her condition. If I can't… we'll talk about going after Sparda." I conceded then, but he just looked depressed as he leaned closer to the window, the bus making no concessions to our comfort as it drove over yet another decaying root.

The city council really needed to get to work cleaning up after the Qliphoth, as we had done our part in sending it packing, I wasn't going to clean up the mess as well.

My time or my money, they weren't getting both.

"I do not believe you are capable of healing her, brother, but I see the reason in your argument. We've been living on Morris Island, it's a port town." Vergil provided then as I remembered hearing of it. It had been burnt to a crisp some twenty years before, having only recently been rebuilt.

"Do tell me Verge, that you've not been stupid enough to leave our comatose mother alone…" I asked then as I waited for his response, which came almost immediately from his offended face.

"You take me for a fool Dante. I have left her with several trusted caretakers, humans, before you ask. I would not take a chance with her, I swear to you that brother." Vergil said then as I believed him, but before I could continue the conversation, our stop had come.

"Well then brother, let's get some rest, in the morning we've going car shopping."

"Could we not fly to Morris Island? I did that to get here." Vergil asked as we moved to disembark, the night sky greeting us as we stepped out into the open once more.

"Flying and I don't tend to get along, Vergil, and it's a hell of a drive. Besides, last thing I want is-"

Of course, just as I made to open the door to the lobby of the building, I was practically thrown off my feet and out onto the street as Vergil struck a pose.

"SPARDA!"

Coughing as I stood, I merely looked to Vergil with a sharp glance.

"We can argue more later, now prove that blade's as sharp as you say."

"With pleasure, brother."

* * *

"I thought you had to do background checks to buy a vehicle?" Vergil asked as he and I settled into the brand new Camaro, the car a thing of beauty as the glistening scarlet of the paint glistened in the sunlight.

"That's only if you don't have the money to make them ignore the formalities, I have the money and we're in a hurry, so we don't have to wait." I said as I pulled my sunglasses on as I pulled us off onto the road out of town, having already left a message behind for Enzo and Nell saying that I'd be out of town for a bit, Enzo just rescheduling things while Nell told me not to do anything idiotic while I was gone.

Considering it was a complete possibility that this road trip could end with a trip to Hell, I would say she's right to warn me off.

"I saw your wallet at the Bistro, how do you have so much currency brother, and still settle for such sub-par housing if you had the means to do better?" Vergil said then as I just rolled my eyes. He wasn't the first to question my living conditions, and I knew he wouldn't be the last.

"I technically work as a Devil Hunter for the Vatican, but you didn't hear that from me." I said cheerfully as I casually flipped off the asshole that tried to pull ahead of me, a loud honk as their response.

"The Pope hired a Half-Demon to hunt Demons?" Vergil said with surprise as his eyebrows shot up, but I just laughed at him.

"Of course not, besides I'm pretty sure the Pope is actually a Demon Lord, and what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Vergil sat there then, likely to process the information when we saw the leaving sign for Red Grave pass us by.

"Well, think about it this way brother. Would you rather be stuck on a road trip with me, or back in Russia?" I asked then, expecting him to make some broad exclamation of enjoying my company, but Vergil was an extremely blunt person.

He didn't care how I felt.  
"Russia, I'd take Russia any day."

* * *

"So brother… if you don't mind me asking, why did you stop drinking?" Vergil had asked me then after a few hours of silence between us, the radio filling the void between us as the miles passed us by.

I could not tell you how glad I was it was seventy-nine, since my favorite song had come out just a few months ago, which is just lovely.

I really needed to get a new mix tape though, or at least a CD. I hated most of the crap they were playing.

And don't even get me started on Daytime Radio…

"Why did I quit drinking? Well, I used to love drinking, but eventually I wasn't able to get drunk anymore, and drinking changed from an escape to just a sad reminder of all I've lost." I said then in a rare moment of lucidity and honestly, my face focused then as I actually thought all about it.

I had usually turned to drinking to avoid thinking about my past lives, the trauma and horrors I had seen and done, but even I was not so blessed to avoid my demons for so long.

Perhaps Death hoped that I would be able to finally overcome all that haunted me if I simply was forced to, but for a long time I had pushed my dark thoughts to the back of my mind, ignoring it all.

Until quite recently.

"You can't get inebriated?"

"God Verge, can't you be a little less formal? We're not royals, we're just guys now, albeit Hybrids, but still just people." I argued to him then, as I had noticed the trend of his to speak formally. I had to give him this, it wasn't really his fault, as Sparda had always said that as the older son, Vergil was to inherit the estate (and the throne of Hell).

He was expected to be prim and serious at all times, and I felt kind of sorry for him. He mentioned Sparda giving us the life he had not had, but that life should have been as children, not as usurpers for the throne of Hell…

However, that time was passed, the estate was gone, and if the rumors I had heard through my investigations were correct, the throne of Hell wouldn't be empty too much longer.

Which, I will admit, is why we had to free Sparda.

If Sparda was freed, he could retake the vacant throne and reinforce the barrier between Hell and Earth, and hopefully put a stop to Demons attacking humanity.

And if he didn't, I would drag his ass down to hell and put him on the throne myself…

You know, right after I kick his ass for leaving us, and his own wife behind.

Fucking deadbeat.

* * *

"Ah, Mister Vergil, I thought you said you'd be back in the new year?" A woman said in surprise as she opened the door of the villa Vergil had directed me to, my brother merely nodding to her.

"I had thought so Margret, but my business took much less time than I thought. This is my younger brother, Dante. We're here to see our mother." He said then with something that could even be called warmth in his tone as the older woman led us inside with a smile and a greeting to me.

I merely followed, taking note of the oriental art that lined the halls, it appears my brother took his love of Japan even further than just the Yamato or the visual novels he had read so long ago.

As the caretaker stepped away and Vergil guided me through his home, I could only think about one thing.

"Do you not have a last name?"

"What?"

"I mean, I know Sparda never gave us one, but even I took the liberty of getting a last name. Did you really not even bother?" I asked him then as his face stilled and he looked at me in wonder in his eyes.

"Why would I need a last name?"

"Okay then... Well, since I'm Dante Redgrave, I dub thee Vergil Bluetomb." I said with a pompous motion as I tapped his shoulders and did a bow at the waist, my brother merely staring at me with aggression in his gaze.

"Do not make me kill you a room away from our mother."

"Like you could kill me anyway." I said under my breath as I finally opened the sliding door to reveal a modest bedroom, one obviously belonging to a woman.

An open closet of dresses and sweaters, jewelry and accessories littering the dresser, and my mother lying still in her bed.

She looked amazing except for her pale form and her stringy hair, but I was taken aback by the energies wafting off her like smoke.

"I know this…" I muttered aloud as I stepped closer ever cautiously as I narrowed my eyes.

This curse shouldn't even exist in this world.

I knew the cause of it, and Ifrit didn't exist in this world, the Astral at least. There was a Demon by that name, but he didn't have the power to do this…

Eva was infected by the Starscourge, a Daemonic disease from beyond the stars…

"How… what did the Demon that did this look like, Vergil?" I asked him then, all attempts at humor and levity gone from my face as horror and panic overwhelmed me, and my brother seemed to pick up on the fact she was worse than he thought.

"A regular Demon I would assume, but it's been years, I can't remember fully. You know this curse then?" He explained then, looking to me for my own explanation, one of which I was loath to tell.

"You did well putting her in stasis, because otherwise she would have been dead years ago. It's called the Starscourge, it's not a curse, closer to a disease. It infects a person and spreads through them, corrupting their soul until they become a Daemon themselves…" I explained then, my voice falling ever lower as I remembered the Endless Night, the horrors I had seen in that fallen land, and all I had ended for the good of humanity.

"But… you can cure it, right?" Vergil asked me then as I just looked at him, his eyes softer than I had ever seen before, a pure and unbridged sense of fear looking back at me. He was desperate, I could see that alone through the bravado and the calm facade he usually maintained.

This was a young man worried that he would be forced to bury his mother, or worse, put her out of her misery.

The illusion was broken.

"I… know how it's cured. One must take the Scourge into themselves, purifying the afflicted by infecting themselves… but not just anyone can do it. Usually it would be Oracles that are given the ability… but I know how their power works… I could try this Vergil, but you must not leave me alone." I asked of him then, my gaze serious and stern as he marveled at me, before asking then in rare concern for me.

"What… what would happen to you?"

"I don't know, but there's the chance it could overtake me. I'm the only person alive that knows how to purge the Scourge, so it would fester within me. I ask that you watch me from now on, and if it ever looks like I'm gone for good, and something else takes hold, that you ensure I can't hurt anyone." I begged of him then as he stepped back, his azure eyes darting between our mother and my pleading eyes.

"You… you can not ask that of me, Dante."

"God damn it Vergil, you don't get a choice. I'm saving our mother, and you damn well better keep an eye on me. I don't know how the Scourge will affect me, with the Demon blood and all, but if I go dark-side, you have to stop me, because I doubt anyone else can." I growled at him then, the Demon inside me roaring in rage at the insolence of my brother for not taking the threat seriously, for not believing that a version of me without hesitations would not be the greatest threat humanity could ever face.

However, Vergil then looked to me one last time, his face falling into a sense of serene calm as he took Yamato's sheath from his back.

Holding the sheath and blade before him in both hands, he met my eyes with resignment in his gaze as he tipped his gaze downward.

"I promise you brother, that if you find yourself lost, I will do what must be done."

"Thank you."

* * *

**It hurt.**

By Chuck, it fucking hurt…

My body was not made to take in the Scourge.

I wasn't an Oracle, and I FELT the difference as it burned its way through me, through my spirit.

I had seen Luna absorb the Scourge before, heal those afflicted by it, and it had barely been a challenge, being able to take it all within a minute or two.

It was taking hours for me, as I could feel every single speck of the Scourge within my mother, pouring and coursing through her veins like venom.

There was so much darkness within her, that it astounded me that she was still human, that a Demon with our mother's face was not laid where I looked.

Yet, I persisted, my hands glowing a vibrant white as I pressed my palms against her stomach, the Scourge pulsing beneath my touch as I pulled it forward.

Her soul was burning so extremely bright as I felt the slow beat of her heart, my fingers burning the same as I pulled more and more of the corrosive energy into my core.

I gave no thought to my body, the skin around my hands and arms blistering and turning black. Either from the Scourge or the heat, I didn't know, but that purifying light had turned into pulsating flames as I pressed on.

However damaging it was to me, Eva was perfectly fine, the burning fire not even harming her as I purged the Scourge from her body.

It was then, hours after I started and when I thought I could hold my focus no longer, that the flames blinked out of existence, and my brother pulled me back from her.

Blinking in exhaustion, I merely held my hands out to him, only to recoil in horror.

The flesh had burned away from my hands, blackened bone being all that remained, sinew somehow persisting to stitch the fragments of my skeleton together.

I barely even noticed as Vergil led me away, my bones being dropped into a bowl of water as Vergil frowned at me, not in anger, but perhaps in grief.

"Whatever you did brother, I do not believe it's worked…" Vergil said then, a man without hope or happiness as he tended to me as I could feel the scourge moving through me.

It was like the most invasive parasite to ever exist, and it wanted me to be aware of it, feeling it's invisible touch trailing along my nerves as it fought against my mind.

"No… I did it, I know I did, I cured her…" I said with sorrow as I sat there, but I also marveled as I looked down to see the flesh bellowing around my bones.

To my shock and horror, the sinew began to grow as flesh began to wrap around my hands, sewing together flesh and skin until I was in perfect condition.

You could never have even imagined I had been burnt, as flawless and perfect as a mannequin's.

However, shaking free the water from my palms, I just looked to my brother with a newfound determination.

"Get the Yamato." I growled out then, summoning Godric to my hand in a burst of flames as he looked at me in confusion, the Yamato sitting comfortably in its sheath.

"Dante-"

"Get the damn sword, we're going to Hell."

"Dante-"

"You wanted that fucking deadbeat back, so we're getting him out of there." I growled out then, not aiming Godric at him, but feeling the blade begin to snarl as its flames burned ever brighter as I stepped even closer to my brother, the need for blood burning through me as my Demon side called for action, to take a life.

And the Scourge agreed with it.

Looking at me in worry then, Vergil took a moment to nod as he drew the Yamato into his hand, giving me another look as he turned.

With a swift motion, a large X had been sliced into the very air itself, only to widen into something resembling a portal as blue energy began to bleed from it, crystallizing in the air as I felt a sudden chill along my spine.

With a last look in my direction, Vergil stepped forward through the portal as I could do naught but follow behind him.

It was time to invade Hell itself.

* * *

It was then, as the Sons of Sparda stepped forth into the land their demonic father had once conquered and sealed away, that a blazing light flashed through the bedroom, and a responding golden glow thrummed away in turn.

A heartbeat speeding up, a shiver through the blood as cold was felt for the first time in years, and she awakened once more in the land of the living.

Her soul, pure and as full of virtue as it had once been, and the forces of Hell would ever be plagued by what they had wrought.

"Dante!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slayer's Note:
> 
> Consider this the end of the first part of Jackpot, the next will be an interlude between the novel and 3, and will lead into where 3 begins.  
> Obviously, however, things won't be exactly as they were. (And Vergil won't be working with a man as creepy as Arkham)  
> As well, I might as well share that a good portion of the this fic was inspired by that line of Vergil's in 5.
> 
> "That day, if our positions were switched... Would our fates be different? Would I have your life, and you mine?"
> 
> I personally believe that if they had, if Vergil had been the first found by Eva, that if he had been saved and both boys had left with her (Since Dante wouldn't have been off in some random place like Vergil had been) that they wouldn't have changed too much.  
> Dante would still find himself walking a similar path, and Vergil might have even awoken to justice.  
> And Eva wouldn't have died as she did in canon, since she left the house thinking she had both of them, and by the time she would have realized Dante was gone, it would have been too late to go back into the house.
> 
> Thus, rather than seeking power to protect that which he feared to lose, Vergil instead dedicates himself to protecting his mother, and seeking to rekindle the relationship their family had shared.
> 
> in a further note I felt really bad for all of you AO3 readers, as the site was down, so you all had to wait a little bit.  
> Hope you all enjoyed, and see you all next time.


	4. Venture

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

**12\. March. A.M 9:47. 1981**

* * *

“This is the place, glad you could meet me Mister… Redgrave, was it?” The portly older man said in curiosity as I stepped forward from the poor excuse of a parking lot, my coat flowing in the wind as I smiled at him.

“That’d be me, Dante Redgrave. Mind showing me around a bit?” I asked him then with a gesture, and he could only smile as he led me inside, the double doors shutting loudly behind us.

“Well, the Ravenova Theater doesn’t attract too much attention, mostly on account of it being put out of business years ago, but it is a prime piece of real estate I tell you.” He said with such passion and vigor that you’d think we were walking around in the White House, rather than a dilapidated movie theater that had gotten it’s west wing crushed by the Qliphoth roots over two years ago.

No one had cared to fix the damage, so it was left to rot, and who knows what all was lingering inside it.

“I am honestly surprised you’re interested in the place Mr. Redgrave, but I must warn you that it’s quite a fixer-upper. Damage to the main theater, most of the windows have been broken by vandals, and I have a firm suspicion that the basement is infested with all manner of creatures.” The real estate agent said with a shiver as I only followed behind him, the lights flickering overhead as we walked further into the building.

“Now normally I wouldn’t have even been selling this place, my advisers have been urging me to demolish it for years, but your interest surprised me.” He said with a strange smile then, as he likely thought I was an idiot. 

A twenty-year old man didn’t typically buy a rundown shithole, paid all in cash and asked to move in as soon as possible, not even calling for a construction firm to access damages. 

Of course, I knew the place was horrid and beyond any hope of restoration, but I had magic.

It’s really quite convenient for living under your means, and for convincing people of things.

In my years in Red Grave City, I learned that money holds the key to business, and Magic holds the sledgehammer to the mind.

Granted, I wasn’t exactly going around obviating and confounding everyone that didn’t do as I liked, as I found that people got REAL upset when they realized they had given away their money or belongings in a fit of confusion. 

So, I did things the correct way, including buying the aged theater, with just a few pushes in the right direction for Legilimency.

“What can I say Mr. Callou, I’m a fan of the theatrics, and I needed a home for my new agency.” I said with a smile as I looked through a door into the main theater.

The large projector still stood, but a decayed root had burst straight through it looking for all purposes like 3D gone horribly wrong.

“Agency you say? I’m always interested in the work of entrepreneurs.” The realtor said then, suddenly interested and no longer thinking I was an idiot. Then again, some of the most famous people started their careers off by making stupid decisions.

Like to go build computers in a garage… 

“You see, Mr. Callou, I’m a Devil Hunter.” I said with a sharp grin as his face paled and his eyes grew wide as I fought the urge to laugh.

“Like… Like the monsters that keep attacking downtown?” He asked then in fear, as I did recall the attack I had thwarted last week actually making it on national television. The news had had a fit, full on video footage of the existence of Monsters, beasts that had been considered only a conspiracy theory a few years ago. 

Course, they hadn’t actually interviewed me, merely recorded me from a distance as I fought the bastards off. 

Without my permission, might I add. I could probably sue for that, make a few million of the coverage, but I wasn’t up for a lengthy legal battle with SENN or whatever the name was of it here.

So many things are different, so many things are similar… but did McDonald’s really have to have their Veggie Burger succeed? Or have Grimace as the mascot…? 

“Mr. Redgrave?” Callou said then, drawing my mind back to where it belonged.

“Sorry, my mind tends to wander off from me. Yes, those beasts are called Demons. I kill them for a living, and I figured why not make it official?” 

Callou merely blustered there and began flipping through his folder of documents, a few of them obviously proof of purchase and hopefully my deed.

“Well, you’d have to speak with the Insurance company for that, as I don’t believe Demons are labeled as an insurable accident, but I will let you get to work. I’ll, uh… Send the papers for you to sign tomorrow, and have the bank verify the payment and send along the deed.” The man said then with an obvious desire to leave, of which I did not stop him from.

“I would advise hiring exterminators for the basement though, I wasn’t kidding, it’s terrible down there.” He said with a huff as the facade seemed to drop, and I saw the disdain he held for the place become clear.

“Never thought I’d sell it, but just for the papers, what will you be calling your agency?” 

“I’ll get back to you on that.” I said then with a startled look, as I had spent so very long debating locations for my agency that I hadn’t even thought up a name.

“Whatever you say Redgrave, the dump is yours. I hope you enjoy yourself.” Callou said with a snarky laugh as he walked off from me, the front doors banging loudly as he finally made himself scarce.

My work could begin. 

“Oh I will.”

* * *

**_Two Years Earlier, in Hell_ **

* * *

“So, do you have any idea where Sparda’s even being kept at?” I said with frustration as I cleaved another idiotic Demon in two, my brother keeping up his pace as we trudged through the ancient ruins of whatever society Hell had once fostered.

That is, before they became bloodthirsty monsters that wanted to destroy and consume all life in the known universe.

“Presumably, he’s being held at the one place that can contain him.” Vergil said in a tone that I didn’t like too much, which meant only worse news.

Worse than the approaching Demons, pushing aside their fellows in a rush as they brandished gigantic scythes in our direction, their eyes glowing with fury. 

“I’m not gonna like your guess, am I brother?” I asked with a huff as I let loose another shot from Umbra, the phosphorus round blasting a Demon’s head clean off it’s shoulders, the body a melting mess on the stone floor.

_I wonder if Hell has janitors?_

“There’s only one place in all of Hell that can hold father. I believe he’s being held captive in the Bloody Palace.” 

The bastard just had to say it… 

It was a myth, or more accurately a horror story, among Devil Hunters.

A never ending castle within Hell, a confusing and disorienting labyrinth requiring one to brave through ten-thousand floors full of death and destruction.

I had heard stories about it for years, a particular Hunter even saying he had been there, but there had only been one-hundred and one floors, not the endless slog that many had described.

Of course, I wasn’t too against the idea, since I doubt anything in there could even phase me, it was merely the idea of conquering all ten-thousand floors… and how long it would take.

You see, the Demon Realm and the Human Realm existed parallel to each other, but not directly connected. Thus, time traveled differently from one realm to the next. 

We could spend a week in Hell, fighting our way through the palace, and it could be a minute on Earth.

Or fifty years. Dead Jim hadn’t really been too clear on it, only that when he had gotten back to Earth, it was completely different. 

Taking an annoyed breath, I looked up to the darkened skyline, my eyes resting on that damned red tower.

The one I had always laughed about and said I’d just tell people I climbed it, rather than actually doing it. 

Now, it seems I would be forced to.

“Verge, if we make it up there, and he’s NOT there. I’m killing you.” I growled at my brother as a scythe grazed the side of my face, the Demon getting close and personal as it tried it’s damnedest to kill me, but I didn’t go down easily as I blasted it backwards.

The thing was torn apart by the wave of energy, barely any of it remaining as I turned back to my brother and his own enemies. 

It was then, that Vergil did something that genuinely terrified me and was something I would never expect from him.

He laughed.

“Oh brother, as if you could kill me.”

* * *

“We’re taking a fucking break.” I growled out as I slumped against a crumbled wall, my brother merely looking down at me as he eyed the portal to the next floor.

“Dante, we’re already halfway up, we do not have the time to delay.” He argued as I just flipped him off in turn, my legs killing me as Godric laid to my side, the blade for once extinguished as even it seemed tired. 

Sometimes I kinda regretted forging a magical sword, since the thing was argumentative as all hell, and almost never made our power struggle easy. 

Well, as argumentative as a non-verbal magical blade could reasonably be. 

“Take a rest, I can see you’re tired.” I said to him then as he evaded my gaze. He liked to pretend he wasn’t half human, that he didn’t need all the things I knew he did. He barely ate, he never slept, and he found no use for small talk.

The last he needed most of all as he was terrible at talking to other people, usually insulting them or their ancestors without even meaning to.

“I can still fight.” He argued back as he looked to the Yamato in his shaking hand, which told me quite enough.

“No you can’t, now sit down and think with me for a second.” I said then, patting the floor beside me as he finally gave into my request, his navy coat crumbling under him like a cushion as he sat at my side. 

“And what, shall we discuss brother?” He asked then as he gave me his signature ‘You’re a Fool’ gaze, but I merely just lo0ked back at him seriously.

I wasn’t in a joking mood.

“What are we doing Verge? Fighting through Hell itself for the Old Man, expecting he’ll jump to our aid and fix all of our problems?” I asked him then with a critical gaze as he stared back at me, anger now blooming in his steely look.

“And what, pretending to be human on Earth is going to solve anything?” He growled out then as he stood, a hand resting on the sheath of the Yamato, and I merely called Godric back to my hand.

“Vergil, think for just one damn second here. If Sparda’s really as all powerful as people have said for our entire lives, then why is he still down here? Still trapped? It’s been eleven years, do you really think he’d stay down here?” I barked back at him as I stood on shaky legs, but I brushed it aside as the comforting warmth of Godric rushed over me as its flames burst to life.

“What are you saying…?” Vergil asked me then with ice in his tone, his eyes narrowed as he stared into my very soul, and I stared back.

“I’m saying you haven’t considered it. What if Sparda’s dead?” 

“HE IS ALIVE!” 

“Oh yeah, then why stay down here? He liked Earth, he left this shithole for it, so why stay here? Either he’s dead, or he’s powerless and forced to stay here. I’m just saying, Vergil, that we have to consider the fact that he may not hold our answers.” I said calmly then as I stared at him, Godric raised to my side defensively as I saw his eyes flicker over the blade and myself before taking a breath.

“You’re right Dante, but we have no other choice. Let us keep going, and in the event that Sparda is… no longer alive, then we’ll discuss what must be done.” Vergil said calmly then as he tucked the Yamato back to its home and his features softened as he looked back to the portal.

“Are you ready brother?” He asked me then, as Godric flashed out and appeared once more on my back, but I merely nodded as he and I readied ourselves.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

* * *

Eventually we had gone farther than we could keep track of, and what passed for night had fallen in Hell, the light of the portal being all that carried in the dark.

Firmly telling him that it would be foolish to keep going, I dragged Vergil away from the portal and to the ruins beyond it. After passing several remains of rooms, all destroyed beyond recognition, we found a clinic of some sort.

Elixirs and other strange concoctions awaited us as I walked further inside to find an examination room, a series of cots not too far from the door. 

Of course, Vergil just scoffed at the filth that covered nearly everything, but I did cast Scourgify on some of the cots and the floor itself.

That had been an interesting conversation, when Vergil had asked about the incantations I spoke so often, and the spells that followed.

I couldn’t tell him the truth obviously, but I told him something very close to it.

I learned a mystical art a while back, a magic that Humans practiced that involved casting spells via Latin phrases. 

From then on he insisted on criticizing my pronunciations, and I insisted on hitting him every time he did.

“This cleaning spell… is it reliable?” He asked me as he eyed the cotton sheets on the cot, ones that had been stained black with blood and filth not mere seconds ago. 

“If you’re afraid that you’ll wake up dirty, don’t be. Scourgify doesn’t reverse. Bed’s clean as could be.” I said with a whistle as I began to chant numbers, my hands coming up as I twisted beams of light through the air, warding patterns being carved into the very fabric of reality as I created a barrier around the clinic that would repel Demons.

I would have tried something with light, but I wasn’t too sure whether or not Demons and Daemons were one and the same, the resurgence of the Starscourge being a different matter altogether.

I still felt the Scourge inside me as I laid down for the night, my brother making his own way to sleep, the Yamato’s sheath sticking out from beneath the pillows for ease of access. 

**_Why does he get Sparda’s blade, and we get treated like a bastard?_ **

“The fuck was that?” I almost panicked as I quickly threw myself into my mind, scouring the recesses of it for any unwanted presences or parasites. 

I had experienced piggybackers before, and I never wanted another one.

However, to my surprise no alarms blared within my mind, but I did see in the corner of my gaze a man with white hair, a flowing red coat covering his body as he started back at me with rage filled eyes.

 **_“How dare you come to rescue the asshole who left us for dead?!”_ ** The figure roared at me as it stood, the familiar face of Dante melting away as a vaguely reptilian Demon stood before me, blood red wings extended as it charged towards me, its eyes burning in their sockets. 

**_“You who invade souls, seek to turn my strength against me, to poison my body with such darkness!”_ **

It was then, as I saw the eyes of this beast, that I fully understand what I was looking at.

I had thought some fragment of Dante had remained in my mind, as it would not have been the first time a soul refused to move on, but there was no Dante aside from me… I had been born, so no mind had come into being aside from mine.

Which meant this was my Devil side, the presence I had felt so strongly over the years and even more so lately, the being that called for me to murder my own brother in cold blood.

A bloodthirsty monster, no better than the ones that I killed daily, and no doubt far more vicious.

“You’re the part of me that’s a Demon.” I said straightforwardly then as it stepped closer, its piercing claws attempting to grab hold of me, only for them to glide right through my form.

“And not a smart part either. We’re in my mind, you can’t hurt me here.” I said with a small grin as I saw the beast rage against me, trying with all its might to hurt me at least a little.

“Now then.” I started with a sudden boom to my voice, the Demon being blasted away as silver chains burst into being and wrapped the creature together.

With murderous intent in it’s eyes, I crouched before the captured monster, my eyes neither fierce nor angry.

I was going to accept this.

“You and I, I’m afraid, are trapped together pal. You can fight and rage all you like, or we can work together.” I said as the beast’s eyes burned back at me, only for the flames to die out and smolder away.

The demonic skin melted away as a mirror image of my current form stared back at me, ice blue eyes glaring halfheartedly. 

“If we’re gonna be talking, could you let me go?” It asked me then, likely thinking I was stupid enough to do that.

“I’m afraid not buddy. If I let you go, you would just run into a corner of my mind, and I would be forced to find and drag you back here. I don’t have the time or patience for that. So, either we work out our differences here and now, or I purge you out of my body.” I finished with a snarl, my own eyes flashing a bright white as I gazed at the captured form of my other, a shocked look on its face.

“You can’t… you’d be human, they’ll rip you apart.” 

“Pal, I stopped being human a long time ago, and I’m sure I’ll manage.” I said then with a sharp grin, standing and walking away as the darkness of my mind drew closer, almost enveloping the Demon in it’s cold embrace. 

“Wait!”

That was the opening I was waiting for.

“Let’s make a deal…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slayer’s Note:  
> And so begins the Hell arc of the story.  
> I think I’ll keep these arcs pretty short over all, so expect two more chapters in Hell, perhaps three before we begin to get to DMC 3 territory.  
> As well, the beginning of Devil May Cry (The shop), which is obviously a bit different from the shop he gets before DMC 3.  
> I figured that he would want a bit more room, and can you just imagine movie night with the DMC Crew?  
> Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the brief interlude, and I’ll see you all next time.  
> -Oscar


	5. Valiance

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

**7\. May. A.M 7:47. 1979**

**The Bloody Palace, The Demon Realm**

* * *

I was hungry.

We had been in this fucking tower for two months, and I was starving as we fought against hordes of Demons on the daily, clearing floor after floor, only resting in safety when night fell.

Of course, as Vergil would so helpfully remind me, we didn’t actually need to eat.

Our demon metabolism was in such a way that we didn’t actually require food, but our energy was sapped without nutrition, and our moods didn’t improve much, and neither did our morale. 

As the days passed, I felt the point of this all melt away, the idea of Sparta being useful in any way being laughable.

Oh yeah, and Vergil and I barely held back from killing each other as we passed floor one thousand, as Vergil had reminded me when we reached it, he revealed he had in fact been keeping track.

Wish I had known that, as I had completely forgotten what floor we were on and my mind had grown confused.

Well, more than usual.

Now, my brother wanted to set off through the portal once more as I simply lounged on a blanket we had stolen from the clinic, the floors after it having no such luxury as actual beds. 

“Brother, we must press on.” He argued as the portal loomed over us, the crimson sky shining down as I merely looked at him with a pitiful glare.

“I'm hungry and tired.” I said in turn as I wrapped the blanket tighter around me to avoid his judgemental gaze. 

“We don’t need sleep or food.” 

“So you tell me, but my body disagrees.” I argued with a dry laugh as he just rolled his eyes at me, the Yamato coming to rest by his side as he looked at me.

“I’ll admit, we’ve been marching forward without pause, but it’s been two months, we’re not too far from the throne room…” Vergil said wistfully as he came to rest beside me, his chin resting on the hilt of his blade. 

I just sat up with a furious glare.

“It’s been two months? We’ve spent two fucking months down here, looking for the deadbeat?” 

“And you’ve been complaining for two months.”

* * *

_Floor 3859_

* * *

“You ever think about settling down brother?” I asked him as he flipped overhead, Yamato sliding forward through the skull of a Demon as it surged at him, dark blood flying through the void from the strike.

“Really Dante? You’re trying to have this conversation, now?” He asked with wonderment as he turned on the spot, Yamato sending forward a spectral slice through the air, the energy flying to blast another beast back as I nailed it with buckshot, the duel assault decimating it.

“Well, you’ll run from it on Earth, nowhere to avoid me down here brother.” I said in turn, a grin on my face as he just glared at me, Umbra reloading itself as Godric seared its way through another of the monsters.

Vergil seemed to consider the point there as he flicked Yamato aside, the corrosive blood being thrown from the blade as he readied another strike. 

“I… I hadn’t really thought about starting a family of my own. I’ve been taking care of mother for so long that I haven’t bothered entertaining the thought.” He said thoughtfully as I looked back at him, his face pensive as a dual wielding beast tried its best to spear him, Vergil’s hand merely flexing as Yamato sliced the thing from head to toe. 

“Well, I’ve thought about it.” I said with a small grin then, as I had thought a lot about it. After all, I had started many families, had entire scores of children across my existences, and held more love in my heart than one thought possible. I also was curious what would win out in the genetics of this life.

Wizarding or Demonic, which would prevail in my children?

I was fine with either, as my children would be formidable as either, and not much would matter if one won over the other.

“You, a father? Brother, you eat nothing but pizza and live in squalor. You would make a terrible father.” Vergil said with a mocking laugh as I just glared at him in turn.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Verge.” 

“Any time brother.”

* * *

I had fallen asleep for the night, Vergil standing vigil in the chance of another challenger coming through, but I awoke not to the Bloody Palace, but a familiar dark void. 

“Death…?” I called out into the realm, standing and walking off in search of my patron as I worried.

The last time I had seen him, he had been falling apart in his own words, the abilities he had given me beginning to fade as I carried on.

It was then that I heard a sickly cough, and turned on the spot to look on at him.

Death had always seemed impeccable, his suit crisp and clean as his face and hair was clean and well kept as if he was always expecting a meeting.

The being before me was nothing like that, his dark suit replaced by a grey jumpsuit, his hair flat and fallen around him as he gazed at me through bloodshot eyes. He just coughed again as he fought to stand, the skin around his eyes cracked and dark as he looked onwards as I resisted the urge to help him stand.

After all, a single touch from him would kill me and send me onto the next life.

“Death? You okay buddy?” I asked in concern as I approached the entity of Death, who ironically looked as if he stood on death’s door, the skin of his face flaking off into a nonexistent wind.

“Harry… I’m sure you’ll be glad to know you won’t have to put up with me for much longer.” Death sputtered out as a burgundy armchair appeared behind him as he stumbled into a shaky sit. 

I froze then at his words, as once that was all I had wanted to hear. He had strung me along for ages, forced to live for life after life to fulfill an agenda of Death’s, and longing for my eternal rest… but by some strange turn of fate, I had grown accustomed to Death’s presence, the only constant throughout it all.

Death merely coughed then before his empty eyes turned back at me, his eyes showing an emotion that I had rarely seen there. 

Regret.

“Tell me Harry, have you ever read the works of Howard Philips Lovecraft?” He asked me then, throwing me off guard as I couldn’t see what H.P Lovecraft had to do with the end of my unconventional Immortality 

“Some here and there, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Ever read the Nameless City?” He asked in turn as I shook my head, only Call of Cthulhu and Shadow over Portsmouth coming to mind, way too many millennia having passed since I had read much of the mythos.

“It’s a good read, a setup of sorts to the tale of the Forsaken one.” Death said then as he turned his gaze upwards, an orange sun beginning to rise in the distance as a light began to shine in Death’s realm, a rare occurrence that I had seen only twice before.

“Might I share an excerpt, Harry?” He asked me then, his voice so much weaker and tired that I would think him a mere old man, and not the literal embodiment of death.

“Sure Death…” I said quietly then as I noticed a golden chair appear behind me, the seat comfortable as I took it.

Death just looked into the distance then as a sky began to form, clouds floating by as our gazes rested on them.

“That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons, even Death may die.” He said then with an energy about it that I didn’t expect as he started coughing once more, a golden liquid trailing from his thin lips.

Ichor, the blood of a true immortal.

“Death… are you dying?” I asked then, my tone afraid as I confronted the one thing I had never imagined, this all powerful entity I had begun to know better than any other, frail and weak before me. 

He just laughed at me then, his shining blood staining his teeth as he looked at me with something akin to pride.

“I’ve been dying for some time Harry, and it was bound to happen eventually. Everything dies at some point, and my time is coming to a close my friend…” Death said with a tear then, as I could barely believe it. This cold and proud being, reduced to this crumbling husk before me as he told me the sad, uncomfortable truth. 

“Death… what happens if you die?” I asked them, something inside me quivering, perhaps in fear. I had longed once for Death to release from my torment, to let me rest… but I had overcome that emotion. I knew now what a gift it was, to live far beyond my existence and to touch so many worlds and lives, to those doomed to fate’s cruel machinations.

“Well, one of three things really. Either one of my Reapers would take my place.” He said then as my face must have made it clear my thoughts on that option. The Reapers were Death’s servants, protecting and later reaping the souls of the living as Death could not, but they were a selfish and cold race of beings, and I had always hated being around them.

They were not impartial, they were biased and hateful, and I would not allow them power over death, let alone power over me.

“What're the other options?” I asked briskly, not even entertaining the thought of serving a new Death.

He just laughed warmly then as he met my gaze.

“Then, either death comes to an end, and the universe and its beings become eternal.” He said then as I kind of found that horrifying. Yes, death was painful and took people away unfairly, but it was a vital part of life.

If nothing could die, then life was pointless.

“And if not that?” 

He smiled then in a way I didn’t like, his hand coming to rest on mine as I struggled not to panic… but I did not die.

The consuming, deathly touch of Death himself didn’t kill me as I looked at him with confusion.

“Or you take my place, you become Death.”

* * *

“Dante! Must you force me to wait for you to awaken every morning?” The dulcet tones of my brother said to me in annoyance as I was dragged once more to the land of the living, still within the land of the dead.

Well, a different land of the dead than the one I knew so well, my mind full and worried as I laid my eyes on Vergil, his blue orbs staring in confusion at the look on my face most likely. 

“Are you feeling well Brother?” He asked me then as concern flooded his words as I just shook off his concern as I stood, scooping Godric up off the ground as I stepped beside him.

“I’m alright, just getting sick of this place.” I said gruffly as even Vergil seemed to agree with me, his eyes holding disdain as he looked off into the distance.

This floor of the tower contained transparent walls all around us, the full landscape of Hell resting before our eyes as we looked onwards, a short break from the slog of it all as we stood together then.

“I would be loath to argue brother, as I too have grown weary of this place.” Vergil said to my surprise, as I would have imagined he would want to continue on, his goal of saving Sparda having driven him on so far. 

Hell, he had fought me over the sheer mention of us giving up and going home, forgetting our father’s possible survival and moving on, finding some other way of awakening our mother.

He would not even entertain the thought then as his other motive became evident without saying, as Eva’s awakening was not the sole reason we had gone to Hell.

The Throne, and Sparda’s seal between Earth and Hell, all hung in the balance.

The Throne held immense power and the ability to control all of Hell, and it’s inhabitants, but it was more than that. Whoever controlled the Throne could reach the Seal, a mystical rune that Sparda had carved into the Chamber of the Morningstar, the heart of Hell itself.

If one could reach the Seal, they could break it, merging the Demon and Human realms together once more, bringing Hell on Earth.

However, we knew that the Throne would not allow just any Demon, as hundreds had fought for the chance to take control, and all had failed.

But we knew that it would not last forever, as Vergil and I had both heard rumors of old, powerful Demons that sought to take control.

To bring back the age of darkness, to return Demons to Earth, to allow the monsters to once more take control of the day and plunge mankind into ruin and destruction under Hell’s hand.

That was the other reason why Vergil was so determined to release Sparda, in the hopes he could reclaim his throne, restore the Seal from its damaged state.

And to end the cycle of destruction that Hell was set on, and keep Demons off of Earth, to bring an end to it all.

I was not so optimistic.

“Even if Sparda’s in any condition to rule, do you think he would even want to take the Throne brother?” I asked the man then, his steely gaze once more on mine. Vergil hated when I shined a light on it all, when I made him doubt our decision to come here, when I pointed out the holes in his hopes. 

“We have been over this-“. He tried to argue to me, but I just cut him off, bringing to light a concern that I doubt he had considered. 

“How do we even know he’s even the man we used to know? He’s been trapped down here for ages, what if he’s lost it? Rather than the man you admired, he could be a savage beast, worse than all the Demons he locked away.” I growled out as my brother popped Yamato free of its sheath, his eyes furious as I saw the smidge of fear in his gaze.

He pretended to be calm and collected, that he had everything prepared and under control, but I saw the doubt and fear in his eyes.

He knew just as little as I did, and he feared just as much as I did.

That this all would be for nothing, and that releasing Sparda could be the worst mistake we had ever made, and he likely was just now considering the obvious.

That we wouldn’t be able to seal away Sparda after freeing him, if he had truly lost himself as I feared.

However, I did consider myself capable enough to handle him, Vergil was not ready to face our father.

Either physically or emotionally, Vergil was not strong enough to imprison or even kill his own father, and I knew that well enough.

I just hoped he did as well.

“If Sparda has lost his way, it is our duty as his sons to stop him from destroying the world he had sought to protect so long ago.” Vergil said after some time, his eyes holding a fiery determination that I could only agree with, even if I doubted his resolve to end the man he held in such high regard, and likely still loved as he had so long ago.

“I could not agree more brother.”

* * *

_(Floor 9999)_

* * *

I didn’t know how long we had been here, in this damned tower as we fought our way ever higher, the lights of the infernal portals searing their way into my mind as we fought floor after floor of Demons.

However, it was almost over, as Vergil pointed out the silence of this floor, and a crumbling statue beyond the portal.

This floor held no enemies, no Demons, aside from the sole statue.

A great armored being, a scowl evident on its demonic face as its horns twirled down around its face, its gaze full of contempt and malice. 

In the statue’s hands, however, was a recreation of a very familiar blade.

The statue held a stone Yamato, and Vergil marveled at it in amazement.

“Our father’s Demon form,,.” He trailed off then as I stared into the eyes of the statue as its stone orbs began to glow a piercing violet, but my brother didn’t take notice,

Sparda knew we were here.

“Love to faults is always blind, always is to joy inclined. Lawless, winged, and unconfined, and breaks all chains from every mind...” Vergil whispered under his breath as I stared once more at the portal, the only thing holding us back from the end of this voyage.

From all we had known and been told, the Bloody Palace held only the floors we had traveled so far, yet another portal floated before us. 

The ten-thousandth floor, the one that none had ever mentioned, and said not to exist.

The Throne Room, the place Vergil believed held the imprisoned form of the Legendary Dark Knight, Sparda the Awakened Demon Lord.

And the ultimate deadbeat dad.

“Come on Shakespeare, we have work to do.” I said to him then with a worried, but calming grin as he merely glared at me.

“If you must insult me, do it properly brother.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I do.”

* * *

I’m not sure what we expected from the Throne room. Perhaps banners and livery, a warm glow and a bird’s eye view of Hell.

We instead found a dark cage surrounding a withering and thin man. 

He sat on a pointed and glowing throne as a scarlet energy bubbled away from beneath his skin, but I saw his chest shake with each breath he took.

Sparda was alive.

My brother nearly took off towards the man, but I held him back by the shoulder, my eyes locked on the metallic cage that hung over Sparda like a shroud and lost my words as I stepped closer.

A horrible and cold energy surged through the metal of the bars, and every single inch of my being begged me not to touch them, my own mind unraveling as I stepped closer.

It was like… the cage itself was made to repel me, to stop me from coming closer.

This wasn’t an Anti-Demon cage, as Vergil walked closer with no difficulty, this cage was meant to protect against me… I felt my magical signature embedded in the metal, the sulfur smell of Death’s presence engraved upon it’s surface.

My analysis complete, I let Vergil step closer as he wrapped his hands around two of the bars, trying with all of his might to pull them free.

He looked at me then, as if asking why I did not offer my aid.

“This cage brother, I do not know it’s construction, but I can’t do anything about it.” I muttered out in awe as I stepped closer, an almost sentient energy pulsing out in warning as I stared at the bars of it, and felt a stern feeling of unwanted intrusion.

“Then I will…” Vergil said then in spite as he pulled the Yamato free, the light shining off the blade as he readied himself.

Honestly it was our best bet, as the Yamato was said to cut through anything, even space itself.

An enchanted cage was no match as the katana glided through the metal like it was an illusion, the bars shattering into particles as he cut free a path into the cage, Sparda’s form still as silent and unmoving as it had been when we arrived. 

The cage broken and the energy dispersed, I followed Vergil forward as I took note of the old man, and figured that he actually deserved that nickname now.

He had appeared young in our childhood, despite being older than I was, Demon aging being slowed as it was, but now he looked his age.

His hair had withered away leaving wisps here and there, wrinkles and lines marring his face as he looked like the oldest man in existence, his form frail and brittle as if even moving would shatter his bones.

No restraints or magic held him to the Throne, but neither Vergil nor I could move him from the seat, yet I held another idea.

I knew it would not work on Eva, as her sleep had been an entirely different matter, but Sparda looked as if he had merely fallen asleep in his seat, not like Eva had. 

So, with a soft crimson glow in my palm, I pressed my hand to his chest, the spell on my tongue as I let loose the incantation.

“Rennervate.” 

For a moment, neither Vergil or I moved, hoping that my spell would do something, hopefully awaken Sparda from his sleep.

Silence fell over us as Sparda’s breathing halted, and I began to think that his sleep had actually been all that kept him alive, but then a quivering began in his hands and his eyes slowly opened. 

Oh so familiar eyes, a soft and piercing blue, now looked at us in confusion before an annoyed look crossed over his face.

“You two are one hell of an alarm clock…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slayer’s Note: 
> 
> So, bit of real life here. My home had some water damage, and my family and I relocated to a hotel as the repairs go on. (They basically ripped up the floors of most of our downstairs), so I won’t be on my PC for the next two weeks.
> 
> However, I have my tablet so I will be able to continue writing, but at a slower pace.
> 
> Sorry for the inconvenience.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed.
> 
> -Oscar


	6. Vergil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the Hell Arc.

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

  1. **May. AM 9:47. 1982**



**The Infernal Throne, The Demon Realm**

* * *

“How long have I been gone for?” Sparda said with a stretch as he slowly stood from the throne, his frail frame having to seek support from Vergil as he stumbled forward.

I just stood and looked at the man, having to mentally connect him to the burly man that had threatened me on the day of my birth, the Devil that had managed to conquer Hell itself.

He looked pathetic and old, and not in any condition to save humanity, not any more.

“It’s been eleven years since you left us to die, Old Man.” I said in a passive snarl then, feeling Godric begin to warm up from its spot on my back, the blade itself feeding off my anger.

Of course, I knew now that he had been captured and imprisoned, but if the look of guilt on his face said anything, he had been captured after the assault on our home.

“I’m right then, you weren’t imprisoned until after that night.” I said simply as the man that was now my father just locked eyes with me. Exhaustion, guilt, and righteous fury filled that frozen gaze as I returned the gesture.

“You will never understand me Dante.” He said then, as if a defensive claim would somehow save his soul from damnation, if he even possessed one.

“Oh really? Because it seems like you were off playing as a demonic diplomat, rather than being with your family, and it seems that what happened was entirely your fault.” I said then as his skin began to morph around him, his eyes glowing a bright violet as… he just stopped, this shocked and hollow look to his eyes as he began coughing roughly, leaning ever further into Vergil’s supporting embrace.

“I… my work saved all of humanity, and the job never ended, each and every second of my life has been spent protecting the human realm.” He sputtered out then as his face grew pale, and even my rage subsided due to worry.

Then, I felt the impact of his words, his defensive excuses burning away as this primal rage flooded me, a memory long forgotten now coming to surface as deep seated fury came to bear on the man before me.

“Protected? The demons run free on Earth, killing and plundering all that they desire, I’m the only reason the world hasn’t ended!” I said in quiet rage then, Godric finding its way to my grasp as a voice within me began to urge me forward, calling for me to sate my hatred by killing the man before me.

“Enough Dante. Father is in no condition to bare your rage.” Vergil said then in frustration, glaring at me from his position of holding our father aloft, the man himself near collapsing into Vergil’s arms. 

"Oh, he can’t handle dealing with me, but he’s supposed to take the throne and fully separate Hell and Earth?” I asked then of my brother’s hypocrisy, wondering how he expected the man to save us all if he couldn’t handle a dressing down from his son.

The Demon in question merely coughed up a spot of black blood then, only to meet my eyes with conviction.

“I can’t take the throne. I’ve held it ever since I was captured, and long before then. I will not survive a year longer.” Sparda said then, not as a mighty Demon Lord, but as a broken and weak man able to endure torture no longer. “Who held you here, why did they put you on the throne, rather than taking it themselves?” Vergil started asking his own questions then, obviously curious about why a Demon would pass up the throne.

“I don’t know, as the existence I’ve been living was clearly not as real as I thought, but I imagine it was a minor Demon, one not able to endure the drain of the throne.” Sparda said with a sideway glance to the throne, his eyes going cold then as he looked back to me then. 

“Is that what this is all about? You two ventured off into Hell, not to save me, but to drain me dry to do as you ask?” Sparda said then in a combative tone, obviously unwilling to be pushed away, but he was the one that had to be held just to avoid the floor.

I was the Immortal hybrid that held a flaming blade and held seven thousand years of magical and physical combat experience. 

“You took on the duty to protect humanity when you rebelled against Mundus, why turn against your oath now?” I asked him then, curious why he had changed so very much, aside from his imprisonment. He talked well enough, which meant his torment had not been mental.

Purely a destruction of the body, rather than the mind. 

“You try being locked away for seventy-three years of torment in Hell for the crime of saving humanity, only to be freed and told to go and do the very same thing you were punished for? Besides, I’m not who I used to be.” He said then in quiet reflection as his eyes began to still, violet melting away into soft and mellow blue.

“Father, what do you mean?” Vergil said then as he turned his father to face him, the man looking all of his age then as the dread of his words sunk in.

“Before your birth, I cut my power into three parts, which I then forged into weapons of power. My power over reality, I entombed within the Yamato, my fury and will into the Devil Sword Sparta.” He said then wisely, before turning to look over at me then with something akin to regret in his gaze. “My emotion and passion, into a final blade, Rebellion. I intended to entrust that blade to you Dante, but the manor was attacked before I had the chance. The manor was desolate and destroyed when I arrived, and I found no traces of you three. I assumed that Mundus’ followers had captured you. I thought you were dead.” 

“Mom escaped with Vergil, I was right behind then, then suddenly I was in the middle of Red Grave City.” I explained then, watching the man’s face rise as he heard that, likely expecting far worse news.

I was honestly surprised he had made me a blade, considering he had ignored me for so long.

“Your mother, Eva… is she?” He asked, his eyes sturdy to receive news he feared.

“She’s alive, but afflicted by a terrible sickness. I did all I could, but it was not enough. We came seeking your help in saving her.” I said then as he looked at me in confusion, only to lighten up as his form straightened.

“I may not be able to take the throne, but I’m sure I can do something about your mother. If there’s anything left here to do, we should be on our way.” Sparda said as we came to a conclusion and my anger stemmed away as I came to some peace with him, realizing that there were would be a better time to hash out my issues with the Demon.

Sparda fought his way free of Vergil’s grasp, steadily coming to stand on his own feet as his silver fringe fell loosely over his eyes. 

As I turned to Vergil then, rather than standing with the Yamato in hand, my brother looked conflicted as he locked eyes with me.

“Brother, a moment if you would?” He asked of me, gesturing to a side chamber of the throne room as I could only nod, following behind him as he led us through, Sparda waiting impatiently as we stepped away.

It was then as we stood together in what was likely a meeting room, that he looked at me with a broken gaze, a deep sadness coming over me as I could only stare back at him.

“Vergil, you’re thinking about something bad. I can tell, so stop it right now.” I practically commanded him then, having an inkling about what was on his mind, and I refused to let him.

“If father can not take the throne, one of us must, as we can not allow a fouler Demon to take it.” He said then coldly and with no emotion slipping free as I just glared at him.

“I spent eleven years without you, and I will not let you rot down here on a throne of poison.” I practically hissed out, Godric once more in my hand as I readied myself, Yamato being unleashed as Vergil locked eyes with me.

“Father can not take the throne, and I will not let you suffer in Hell so long as I live. It is my duty to protect you Dante, so I will stay. Go with him and save our mother.” He begged me then as I could only get lost in my memories. Our mother’s heartbroken cries as she screamed out into the flame filled manor, calling out desperately for my brother who had only then appeared.

An empty and ruined home where once a family had lived in harmony.

I would not let ruin be all of that remained of our family.

“If you won’t come back with me brother, then I will drag your ass out of Hell. I will not lose you.” I growled out then as Godric let off a gust of flames and a spark began to course down the blade of Yamato.

“I said I would do what must be done if our father could not sit the throne. We have no other choice Dante!” He cried out then in pain, his eyes lost as he looked back at me in grief.

“That’s where you’ve always been wrong Vergil. There’s always another choice, and I will show you that.” I said then with no other words in my mind, my decision final as I brought my blade to bear and Vergil’s eyes grew cold and dried of any lingering tears, his will as hard as steel.

“So be it.”

* * *

We had fought many times over the years. Either as lighthearted sparring to pass the time, or struggles born out of frustration and anger, but none as serious as the fight we endured now.

I was fighting with rage and determination, believing that my brother would not survive the strife of Hell, the constant and painful drain of the throne of Hell.

He fought with a sense of responsibility and a belief of justice guiding his actions, and I could not fault him for his cause. It was just, but I was selfish and had lost too much to allow him to burn himself out to save an unfair and unforgiving people. 

I would not let his pure and righteous soul burn out in a realm of darkness and pain.

It was then, after what must have been hours of us fighting, not with anger, but with a deep and mournful pain flooding our strikes, that we stood there, our blades at each other’s throats. 

The flames of Godric licked at my brother’s throat as an intense cold leaped off of Yamato, the razor edge of the blade pulling forth a drop of blood from my split skin. 

“Let me go brother…” Vergil begged me then, his eyes wet and pleading as I found it harder to maintain my hold on my blade, my eyes having to look anywhere but at my brother’s sorrow laid clear for the world to see.

I cycled through my memories then, and felt an intense urge to refuse, to cast a simple spell and lull my brother to sleep, to drag him back with me to the world of light…

But I saw his eyes once more, seeing the pure unbridled hope in his eyes, as I knew he did none of this to hurt me.

He was trying to save me. 

“Damn it Verge, I just got you back…” I said then, not a trace of anger in my voice as I brought Godric back, the blade cooled as I holstered it, Vergil doing the same to Yamato. 

“I know, but we can not leave the throne of Hell empty. The seal will weaken, and if the Throne is taken, then any Demon could simply break it. I do this to protect you, like I should have done years ago.” Vergil said then as I looked once more into his eyes, and I realized that I could argue for centuries, but I would never break his conviction. 

“If I leave you here, it is with the promise that you be careful, and you return one day. This is not a goodbye brother, this is a see-you-later.” I said then, as I could not stand to be parted with him, he and I shared a bond that I never had before. Perhaps it was our connection as twins, perhaps it was the Demon within me that feared losing him, but I felt a connection to him that I doubted I would feel again.

“Dante…”

“No Vergil, if I leave you here, then you have to come home eventually. I will not tell mom that I willingly left you in Hell. You fix the Seal, and you seal Hell off from Earth, but you take the Yamato and come home when you’re done. Do we have an agreement?” I asked him then, my eyes sharp as I looked him in the eyes, finally finding the strength to meet my gaze.

“I can-“

“Promise me.”

Silence that lasted ages, the two of us standing there as the balance between us nearly forced us to face off once more, Godric still within my reach if our argument devolved into violence once more.

However, before I could draw my blade, he looked at me and smiled a sad little grin as he stepped forward. 

“Alright Dante, I promise.”

“My brother, King of Hell, who would have thought?"

* * *

It was when we stepped back into the throne room, that Vergil gave out a slice of the Yamato, a portal being opened in the middle of the room as he stood back. 

Sparda and I stepped closer to it, but then he caught sight of my brother who lingered by the throne, his eyes on it rather than us.

“Vergil, whatever you’re thinking, it isn’t a good idea…” Sparda said then in frustration, his eyes narrowing as he stepped up to him, his emotions bleeding the same as mine had.

Vergil had already made up his mind then, and just smiled at our father in turn.

“You can’t take the throne again father, and I will not let Dante, so I must step forward. After all, you raised me for this, didn’t you?” He asked of the Demon, who could only sadly nod to him, his mouth refusing to say the words he had most dearly wanted to say.

“When I’m done here, I’ll come back, then… we’ll be a family again, all of us.” Vergil said then, almost breaking down as he broke free of our father’s hold, the throne almost giddy as a azure light began to shine over it. 

It was then, as I stood beside the portal, my father watching on in sorrow, that my brother took the Infernal Throne.

As he sat and a jagged crown appeared on his skull, Hell itself shook as a bright light shined over the horrible land, and the portal began to quiver.

“Dante, father, the portal will not stand for much longer. I’m severing the connection between Hell and Earth, you must hurry.” Vergil said then as I began dragging Sparda over by my side, the Demon refusing to move as he took one last, long look at his eldest son.

“Goodbye brother.” Vergil whispered out as I stepped to the portal, the blazing blue of it engulfing our form as I turned away to avoid seeing the pain blossom on my brother’s face.

“Goodbye Vergil…”

* * *

As my father and I stepped out of the portal’s light, it closed behind us and left us standing there, the familiar sight of my mother’s room fluttering into view, but I was left puzzled.

Her personal belongings were gone, and the bed lay empty as she was nowhere in sight.

Seeing nothing of her, Sparda and I set off through the door, seeing nothing at all in the elegantly decorated home, now barren and sparse as if no one had ever lived there in the first place.

“Dante, where are we?” Sparda asked of me then, taking in the imprint the paintings had left on the walls, the heavy layers of dust that lay over everything as I merely dragged the man out of the home, seeing first hand the aging paint outside of it. 

“Vergil’s home, but… I don’t think we’re in the time that we left…” I said to him quietly then, seeing that the neighborhood Vergil had guided me to had drastically changed, the noble and proud neighborhood was replaced by a run down slum.

“Well, let’s go home.”

* * *

It had taken some time to arrange it, but we had finally found ourselves back in Red Grave City, but we had been in for a surprise.

The manor Vergil and I had grown up in, our family home, was no longer destroyed and desolate, instead it was lively and beautiful.

It was as if we had stepped backwards in time, to before that night where everything had changed, to before it all turned out for the worst.

However, the armed guards patrolling the property were very new, as was the giant fence and booth that sat at the edge of the property.

If that had all seemed hard to believe, the surprised look the guards had given us when I said my name was Dante threw us for a loop, my father being dragged along with me as the guards led us into the manor, the furnishing completely changed as we moved onward. 

It was then, as our eyes adjusted from the light of day to the warm lamp light within, that I saw a stunning woman in a crimson dress standing before us, a tear running from her eyes as she looked over us in disbelief. 

“I didn’t believe it… Dante?” She said then, barely letting out a breath as she came closer, a hand trailing along my cheek as I just smiled at her in return.

“Hello mom.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slayer's Note:
> 
> Since I have nothing better to do, stuck in this hotel, I've been writing. I've sat on this chapter for a bit, and already have the next one written.
> 
> I guess I haven't made it too clear, but this isn't a slash story, at least not for any of the Sparda family.
> 
> There will be several pairings, but not with OCs really. I won't discount Slash as a whole, but it would likely be side characters.
> 
> I actually have a few characters in mind for slash pairings.
> 
> Anything could happen though, as my stories evolve as I write them.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed, next chapter coming soon.
> 
> -Oscar


	7. Compassion

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

**26\. June. AM 9:47. 1982**

**The Shop Formerly Known As The Ravenova Theater, Red Grave City**

* * *

"No Mom, everything's fine." I said with a sigh then, my elbows digging into my desk as I held the headset to my ear, the front door within my sight.

"Yes, I've been eating healthily. Even started up a new health regiment." I lied flawlessly as I carefully ignored the discarded pizza boxes that littered my desk.

I was considering building a throne out of them, clearly the better of the two Sparda's sons had gotten.

Yes, I had left my brother in Hell.

It hurt me, and it hurt so much worse having to be the one to tell my mother that I left him there, that I haven't done everything I could to bring him home.

I tried explaining to her that he had made a good point. The throne would kill Sparda, which my magical analysis had only confirmed. If Sparda had spent another year holding Hell together, it would have ripped him apart atom from atom.

Even worse Earth couldn't handle the strain as the shattering of the throne of Hell would fully merge the two realms together.

I was good at killing Demons, had even become a pro at it, but I couldn't handle them all. For all the people I saved, thousands fell through my fingers and straight into the mouths of all those Demons.

I wasn't perfect, and I didn't have the strength that I needed to be so, so I had needed to do something.

Vergil taking the throne was that something, as almost suddenly the number of Demons showing up slowed to a crawl, and I was lucky to see a Demon once a week.

That didn't mean that I was out of work however…

"No mom, I haven't met anyone new, and I promise I'll tell you if I do, but I have a client coming in. Yeah, I gotta go." I said with extreme effort as she rambled on about being worried about me before I could finally convince her to hang up.

"Yeah, I love you." I said under my breath then as my front door opened with a bang, but saw no one…

I had a bad feeling, and Umbra was pulled as I stood from my desk, my senses fanning out as I looked for my intruder.

Demons couldn't get into the Office, I had seen to that with my ward design, so what o-

"Excuse me, are you the demon hunter?" A soft and timid voice asked of me then, revealing a small boy standing in front of my desk, a bulging backpack hanging from his shoulders.

Taking a breath to calm my nerves, and letting my shotgun rest, I brushed a hand through my hair as I looked at the kid that I was a second away from shooting.

"Ah, scared me there kid. Yeah, I'm the Devil Hunter. My name is Dante." I said with a charming smile as I crouched down to his level, my gaze leveled with his.

"I think my mom's a demon…" He said then with a worried glare to his eyes, but I kind of let it slide.

Ever since Vergil had taken the throne, there had been barely any Demons in Red Grave, but plenty of people were still afraid of them.

I got about thirteen mistaken clients a week, some more annoying than others.

"I'm sure your mom's fine kiddo, and you should probably be getting home. Do you want me to call your parents for you?" I offered the boy then, knowing well enough the neighborhood that I lived in. It was far from the rundown slum that I had been living in during my days as a Merc, but it was far ftom country club real estate.

A kid wasn't really safe down here, not even counting in the spare demon, humans tended to be responsible for more disappearances around here than Demons were lately.

Course, I did my part to clean up the neighborhood…

"No! You got to help me! I… I don't have any money, but I got these really cool gloves I found." He pleaded then, trying to unzip his backpack to get something, but I just laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay kiddo, if you insist, I'll drop in later today to see your mom, okay?" I said with a smile then as he nodded his head furiously, and I felt a bit better about myself.

"What's your name kid?"

"Alfie."

* * *

Having promised to check up with the boy and his mother later on in the day, my schedule was free at the moment, having nothing on hand and considering going early… until my door swung open to admit two men in black.

One was young, nervous and worried as he looked around in the lobby, but I knew enough about him by his clothes.

He was a priest, likely one affliated with the Vatican judging by the crimson cross pinned over his heart.

A member of what remained of the Templar Order, a group I had always remained allied to.

His companion however was a civilian, dressed in casual clothes and hair thrown about and messy, but the rage on his features practically screamed at me.

I just took another sip of coffee then, my eyes slowly trailing their way to the priest's brown orbs.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" I asked with a small smile, the older man steaming as I addressed the young man.

"You, you're the Hell Hunter, yes? Father Reynolds spoke fondly of you." The priest said with some hesitation then, but started to perk up slightly as he spoke of his elder.

I had dealt with William Reynolds many times in my travels, more of a Van Helsing type than a Frollo, the man working by my side to clear a few hives in the holy city than I had expected.

The fact he was the Black Cross, the position I had once held, had done much to endear me to him.

The Vatican kind of kicked ass, but the man before me obviously didn't.

It was then that the furious man spoke up.

"My daughter is possessed by the DEVIL himself, and this fool refuses to purge her of his foul influence!" The man screamed at me then, his hands grabbing at my desk's edge as his face lit up worse in color than I had ever seen before.

I just took a breath then, as I sincerely doubted that.

Lucifer didn't exist in this world, only a pitiful Demon carrying that name and Demons didn't possess the power of possession in this world, holding physical forms of their own rather than a wraith-like existence.

However, this wasn't the first time I had met an unhinged Church-goer.

"Sir, possession is a myth, your daughter is-" I tried to say calmly then as he just ignored me, screaming into my face loudly as the priest just looked embarrassed.

"MY DAUGHTER HAS THE DEVIL IN HER, WHAT GOOD ARE YOU IF YOU DO NOTHING?!"

I could feel the Devil side in me rising up then, the Scourge whispering in my ears to kill the man for his insolence, but I merely brushed the urge off as I smiled a sharp grin at him then.

"Alright then sir, take me to Lucifer."

* * *

We drove for a while, the enraged man driving his sedan recklessly as the priest, Father Prestley, accompanied me in the backseat.

It appears Prestley had tried to convince the man, Walter, that there was nothing wrong with his daughter, but old Walty wouldn't believe him.

Thus, Prestley had been recommended to seek me out, because, and I quote "Redgrave doesn't put up with bullshit."

Have to say, Reynolds is a classy bastard, and he was totally right.

I just looked out the window as we drove along, my magical presence floating around as I felt out my surroundings.

Walter Merrins was a human, albeit a human with anger management issues and an odd obsession with the more extreme aspects of Christianity.

I wondered to myself what his reaction would be if he knew I was the son of a literal Demon.

I couldn't help but laugh.

:"What's so funny?" Prestley asked then, his eyes confused as the day hadn't really gone too well so far for either of us.

I just looked at him with a dark grin on my face.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you later."

"Oh lord, Father Reynolds warned me against your jokes…" Prestley said under his breath then as he ducked his head, and I merely laughed again with mirth in my eyes.

"He was right."

* * *

The house looked like something out of a horror movie, like a house long since forgotten and haunted, but I knew otherwise.

While my connection to Death was fragile, my senses over his domain long since withering, I could still see spirits and damned beings.

The house was clean, however I did feel a sickly presence within the house, not a Demon, but something similar.

It was only as we walked in that Walter began to calm down, his righteous rage stilling as a guilty nervousness began to fall over him.

"Down there…" He muttered out then as he gestured down from the kitchen, stairs leading down to a cellar door that was chained and locked up.

Seems things were a bit more extreme than I thought… and I was growing curious why Walter was beginning to sweat.

"Let me handle this." I said with a smirk then as I aimed at the door, my intent clear.

"Alohomora." I cast under my breath as the locks flew off, the chains falling aside as I pulled the doors wide open, a darkened staircase meeting my downward gaze.

Taking a steady breath, I made my way down without even flinching as Walter slammed the doors back down, the sound of locks clicking shut.

Seems he thought I would fail horribly, but if I did fall victim to some horrible Demon, a locked cellar wouldn't be able to contain me.

It was then that I laid eyes on the girl, shackled to the wall of the cellar, turning the place from a storage room to a dungeon.

She was pale as a ghost then, her white nightgown torn and filthy as her ragged dark hair fell down over her face, which only then tiredly lifted to meet me.

Rather than the glowing, inhuman eyes of a Demon, I saw only the puffy, red eyes of someone that had long run out of tears.

Pulling my coat over the form of Umbra at my hip, mostly to hide it and calm her nerves, I knelt down to face the girl as her eyes began to flutter.

"Are you… are you the doctor?" She asked then as I took a moment to realize she wasn't talking about my old friend, but rather a physician.

"Were you expecting a doctor?" I asked in my softest tone as I looked closer at her, bruises lining the curve of her neck shook slightly from the cold of the cellar.

"I… my daddy said he was calling someone to fix me…" She said then as she looked away from me, her hair falling once more to cover her sad eyes.

"Then I'm a doctor." I said with a falling grin then, as I realized the presence I felt from her… and froze from shock.

My initial medical scan had said she was adopted, her genetics not matching up with Walter's, which was great… but my scan finally managed to sync up her DNA… and she wasn't human.

For the first time in my life, I had found a hybrid that wasn't my brother.

I couldn't tell who her parents were, as the spell didn't work that way, but her father was a Demon Lord…

Putting away that troubling thought for later, I noticed the blacked fingers on her hands, which I had originally thought were horribly burned.

But she had claws, dark blue and jagged, but as sharp as blades.

Taking a breath then and even a couple of swears, I looked back at her.

"Your name is Charlotte, right?" I asked then, my scan having easily given me her name, but she just looked at me in surprise then, like I had pulled some marvelous trick.

"You know my name?" She asked then, something close to fear creeping into her tone as she obviously thought me similar to her fearsome father.

"I do, and I know your father, but I have a question for you." I said then as I cast a silent Alohomora at her shackles, believing that the inchantation may frighten her.

"How did you do that,,,?" She said then, out of breath as I helped her stand, her eyes wide and unbelieving as I just smiled at her.

"I'll answer your question if you answer mine Charlotte" I said then, my smile growing genuine as I helped her over to the stairs.

"That's good."

"Do you want to go someplace where you won't be locked up? And regarding your question," I asked then as I looked around playfully before whispering to her with a hint of silliness. "I'm a Wizard."

"Really?!" She cried out in surprise, her eyes widening in excitement then as I could only smile that I had driven the darkness from her for now.

"Yep, but you gotta do me a favor Charlotte, and cover your ears." I said to her with a smile as she pressed her ears closed as she watched my every move.

"Bombarda!" I cried out then as the spell shot out like a mortar shell, the cellar door blasting off and through the roof as I led Charlotte back up the steps, her weak form struggling with each step as I led her along.

I just silenced Walter as we emerged into the house, the man prevented from screaming out as I just locked eyes with Father Prestley.

"Call Child Protective Services Gerald, ask then to send Sarah." I said to the man then, him choosing to completely ignore the fact I knew his name as he took off, the mere sight of the bruised and beaten child before us being enough incentive.

It was then that I encouraged Charlotte to take a seat on the couch, my eyes trailing back to Walter, who still tried to scream as he made his way over to me.

"Incarcerous." I whispered under my breath as he was knocked off his feet, the air being knocked clean out of his body as ropes sprung out of thin air to constrict his body.

The man, silent and restrained, lay there as I looked down on him, Godric roaring in rage from my back.

 _Child. Innocent. Human. Vile_.

I tended to forget that Godric had begun to develop sentience, the sheer volume of Demon blood that infused the blade through combat had begun to mutate it in an odd way.

It was nowhere near the level of a Devil Arm, as no mind existed within it, more like it had been given enough emotion through the shattered remains of who the Demons had once been, that it had begun to reflect who they once were.

"I agree Godric, he deserved this."I growled quietly then, my blade humming in agreement as I could only wonder how long she had lived with this man, how long he had judged and abused her for something she had no control over.

She hadn't reached maturity, so her powers lay locked away, but it was clear to see her powers had manifested in a physical form… which meant the Demon within her had seen it fit to protect her in whatever way it could…

"Now then Walter, I would usually end your horrible existence before you could continue to hurt the innocent, or you know, erase your mind." I said then, the man's eyes widening then before rage took back over, his eyes angry and unrepentant as he looked back at me.

He believed himself right, and he would not change his mind.

I took a breath then as I sent a pulse through Godric, calming the flaming blade as I looked back at the human in frustration.

"I would do that, but Charlotte's in the other room, and scared of just about anything. I will not kill you in front of her, but I won't let you walk. You'll spend your time in jail, just like any other filthy animal." I said with a growl then as I left the man behind, my eyes growing soft as I came to sit before Charlotte.

Her gaze looked off through the grime-filled window, silent as a statue as she didn't even notice me.

"Charlotte?" I asked softly as I broke her out of her trance, her claws quivering as she looked at me with fearful eyes. It was clear to see she expected me to judge her for her features now that she had seen me notice them.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to go someplace?" I asked her then as she smiled her best at me, black tears trailing down her face as she looked at me with so much joy that I couldn't help but smile.

"I would like that."

* * *

A representative from Child Protective Services had shown up, but they had gladly sent who I asked for, an old contact of mine.

Madame Sarah Sephiram, an ex member of a coven from across the Pond, and one of the few Witches that lived in America, as this world differed greatly from the Wizarding worlds I had known.

Neither civilizations nor tribes, Wizards were an endangered group, only roughly thirty existing in this day and age.

Sarah had grown upset with her Coven, as their leader had decided that their natural gifts weren't enough, and decided that they must make a convenant with a Demon to boost their powers.

Sarah killed each and everyone of them and sent the Demon back to Hell with his tail between his legs.

She had been crucial in way too many cases so far, even before I opened the office.

"Sarah." I said in greeting as she came to stand before me, a proper doctor looking over Charlotte as my old friend stood beside me.

It had been some time since we spoke, the two of us having been mercenaries at the time, and both of us had left for different callings.

"Harry."

"I tend to go by Dante nowadays." I said with a grin as she fixed me with her emerald eyes, so much like the ones I had once possessed.

"A fan of Alighieri, are you? So many secrets, Dante." She said with a strained smile and an attempt to tease me as she looked back at my young friend, as did I.

"She's not human."

"She is not." I confirmed just as simply as she had asked, watching Charlotte recoil in fear at the sight of the syringe the doctor held, a regular blood test stressing her out worse than we had expected.

"What is she Dante?" She asked me then, drawing me away from the glass window as Sarah locked eyes with me, all pretenses of humor long gone.

"A Hybrid, some call us Cambions. She's like me, daughter of a Demon and a Human." I said bluntly, my eyes couldn't help but trailing back at the girl.

I didn't know why, but the Devil within me didn't call for violence for once… more the opposite.

It wanted me to protect her.

"Do- do you know who the Demon was?" She asked me then as my eyes fell closed, my mind racing through what I knew of Hell.

"I have… suspicions. None good, I don't know for sure, but I know who I can ask about it." I said then as Sarah just stood by my side, her eyes growing hard as I turned once more to face her.

"So… she can't go back into foster care, can she?" She asked me then, but I already knew the answer as I watched the darkness around Charlotte's fingers begin to creep upwards, her claws gleaming in the light.

"No… no she can't."

* * *

It had taken some hours, and some convincing, but finally I had gotten Charlotte released into my care.

There was no other alternative, and I could not in good conscience allow a Cambion to go unwatched, as I knew now what that would cause.

I would not allow a child to suffer for what they couldn't control.

Human, Cambion, Demon. It didn't matter.

Now, as late afternoon dawned and I hired a kind (and Human) babysitter to watch over Charlotte and the shop, I made the time to make a call before I left once more.

Sitting at my desk, my antique phone falling into my hand as I dialed a number that I would have rather not been forced to.

However, with Vergil and Hell incommunicado, I didn't have much choice.

Course the bastard lets it ring a bit before answering.

"Sparda speaking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the Travel Arc. It won't be too long, but it will bridge the gap between the Hell Arc and the events of DMC 3.  
> Hope you all enjoyed, and the next chapter's already written.


	8. Complications

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

“Hey asshole.”

“Dante, didn’t think you’d be calling me anytime soon.” The rough voice said in turn as I just imagined him smiling on the other end.

“Yeah, hope you’re in horrible pain Sparda, but I’ve kind of got a problem over on my end of town.” I said with a snarl as I leaned back in my chair, the bastard snickering at me as I heard soft laughter in the background.

“Hi mom!” I called out then, a pleasant tone to cover up how much I really hated Sparda, the bastard playing the perfect nuclear father after coming back from Hell.

Eva had loved it, but I only hated it.

We weren’t a family without Vergil, no matter how happy Sparda made her.

“Your mother’s concerned about your diet.” He said then with a disapproving vibe as I just looked at Umbra, the shotgun being placed on my desk at some point in the call.

I really needed to keep track of my weapons… 

“I’m fine, but I’ve got a problem you could help me with.” I reminded him again as the Demon just laughed in turn.

“Me, a lowly Demon Lord, being asked by the mighty Hell Hunter? What an honor.” Sparda drawled out then, telling me clearly that mom had stepped away, which meant we could talk business.

“I found a Cambion.”

Sparda was silent then, the time ticking by as I heard him take a shallow breath.

“Excuse me?”

“I was brought in to exorcise a Demon by one of my Vatican contacts, and the girl is a Cambion.” I explained then as I could almost see the surprise that must be on Sparda’s face, as likely he thought himself unique in his desire for humans.

“We’re going to have a long talk about you and the Vatican later, but is the parent a Succubus?” He asked me then, a feeling like hope in his tone as I knew what he feared.

A Cambion born of a Succubus and a Human wasn’t much, plenty of them had been born over the centuries and plenty more would, they were nothing more than beautiful human beings 

However, this wasn’t the case.

“My spell couldn’t determine her parents, but it was a Demon Lord, I’m sure of it.” I said then, remembering the hellish glow that had radiated off her soul, the way a golden glow had consumed her pupils as I brought her to the shop.

My Demon Wards had been flagged by her, but then quickly settled. The only reason she had been let in was that her DNA was similar enough to mine, which meant she was family. Extended, but family. 

Sparda was silent then as we both thought about what it all meant in terms of us and the future of mankind. 

A Cambion varied based on their parentage. A minor Demon or Succubus? Barely more than a Human, maybe with a cool trick like Night Vision or a seductive aura.

A Cambion born of a Demon Lord…?

Well, my brother and I were evidence enough of what happens… 

“Do you have any idea which of my brothers she could be of?” Sparda asked of me then, a tense, urgent sound to him as I almost could feel the worry coursing through his body.

Charlotte couldn't have been more than eight… which meant one of the Demon Lords walked the Earth, which meant one of them had broken free of the Seals Sparda had used to lock them away.

“No, the aura didn’t feel familiar, so not any that I’ve met.” I said in turn as he began to think once more, silence drawing over us as I absentmindedly began reloading Umbra. 

Technically, it didn’t need to be reloaded since the chamber refreshed automatically, but I needed something to vent out my nerves on.

“It could be any of them then. Mundus, Argosax, Balrog, Ipos, Malphas. Though I did hear Malphas was dead." Sparda listed then as he went, however one stood out.

“Actually, Ipos is dead too. Vergil and I finished him off a few years ago and I tore his soul apart. He’s not coming back.” I said then as I remembered avenging that poor girl, tearing the Demon Lord apart piece by piece until not even Death could put him back together.

“And you didn’t recognize his signature on her? Then that’s one off the list, but it could be any of them…” Sparda spoke then, obviously trying to remember. “I left Malphas free, as my sister was always more of an observer. If she could stand by and watch, she did. She wouldn't take a risk like siring a Cambion...” 

“And Ipos is disqualified, so… Mundus, Argosax, or Balrog broke free.” I said then, thinking about how much fun they’d be to hunt down.

Two former Kings of Hell, and the right hand Demon of one of them.

Which meant that Charlotte could potentially grow as powerful as Vergil, as I had found Human blood only enhanced a Demon’s strength, in very odd and strange ways.

Like… gasoline in vodka. It will hurt the Hell out of you, maybe even kill you, but it’ll be effective and weird.

Cambions were a bit like that, dangerous and deadly, but just as weird as us.

“Then a Seal is broken… Dante, you must ensure they haven’t escaped their prisons, if any of them have escaped… I have no doubt that Humanity, and your brother, are in grave danger.” Sparda said then with a tense tone as I closed my eyes, my decision made then as I could only scowl.

“I have to wrap some stuff up here, I’m taking care of the girl now, so I can’t exactly take her along with me.” I said then, thinking back to the little girl sleeping in my guest bedroom, oh so very glad I had it arranged.

Course, I had put together the room in the hopes Vergil eventually left Hell, but it served well enough for Charlotte.

“She’s a Cambion, take her along.”

“She doesn’t even know what she is, and she’s terrified of almost everything. I am not taking her with me to investigate possibly escaped Demon Lords!” I cried out then, not believing the gall of the Demon. I knew first hand he was a bit of an impulsive idiot, and an even worse father, but I sincerely hoped he was joking.

“I’m joking.”

For his sake, he better be glad I'm in a forgiving mood.

“How about this, you bring the girl to the Manor. Eva and I can care for her while you’re gone, and I’m sure Eva will spoil the hell out of her. She always wanted a daughter.” Sparda offered then, obviously reminiscing as he went quiet on me again. 

I considered it this morning, debating the merits of her staying with my folks, and ultimately it was a good idea.

After all, the last thing we needed was one of the Lords to learn they had a Cambion and deciding to raise her… 

That was a terrifying thought.

“I have some business in the city and I’ve got a sitter for the day, but I’ll drive her out tomorrow morning.” I promised him as I picked Umbra back up and snuck a look at my watch to be sure.

“And Dante, please take the Rebellion with you. I know you two didn’t quite… get along, but you’ll need her strength out there.” Sparda said then slowly, almost as if he was trying to smooth over a troubled relationship.

And didn’t that just get to the heart of the issue?

Rebellion, the blade Sparda had created just for me before my birth, and the sword that had refused me.

“ _You’re not the one I was destined for. You are an anomaly.”_

“Sparda, the sword hates me.” I argued back, the man’s eye roll being obvious even over the phone as Godric roared from it’s place on my back.

Seems the old boy wasn’t pleased at the thought of being replaced.

“I’ve spoken with Rebellion, and I’ve explained some of it to her. I will admit I don’t understand it all, but I believe I created her before Dante became, well, you. We had no control over it, so I told her to get over it.” Sparda said then in… an almost friendly tone, obviously trying to convince me to take on the blade once more.

However, I wasn’t too willing to deal with the judgemental Devil Arm, but I knew Sparda wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, so the least I could do was take it along for the trip. 

If it annoyed me too much, I could always ship it back to Sparda. 

“When I drop off Charlotte, I’ll pick it up.” I growled out then as I could practically feel the pleased nature radiating off of the man. I swear he changed on the flip of a coin, dark and weary Demon Lord one moment, jovial and warm father the next.

“See you then.”

* * *

  1. **June. PM 6:29. 1982**



**Vale District, Red Grave City**

* * *

With Charlotte tucked away at the shop and sleeping soundly for the first time in who knows how long, I set off into Red Grave to do as I had promised, but the night was starting to be troubled.

A storm was seemingly on the way so I left my usual burgundy peacoat at home, a grey rain coat having to do as I eyed the dark clouds above me.

When I had promised the boy that had come to my shop, Alfie, I had scanned the surface of his mind for information.

Alfred ‘Alfie’ Frederickson, lives with his mother in the Vale side of Red Grave, not too far from where I lived actually.

Seeing the short trip, I even forgoed taking the Camaro, putting aside once again that I had to remember to bring it into the shop. The thing had more scratches and dents than I cared to admit, but it had never let me down so far. 

I felt a chill though as I walked the streets, my collar pulled over my neck as I passed the remains of several foreclosed businesses, mine being the only revival of these lost buildings.

However, unlike the victims in way too many horror films, I knew I was being followed, and I wasn’t going to play this game with them.

Seeing a shadow dart into cover behind me, I just held out my hand as a violet energy began to course around it.

“Stopra.” I cast then, watching the energy blast it’s way down the street as even the first raindrops of the night froze in their place.

For this narrow section of the street, time itself had stopped at my command.

Whistling to myself, I turned back to where I had walked before, finding a young man in black frozen in the doorway of a forgotten radio store.

Standing behind the man, I let time resume as I felt his energy, or lack thereof. 

The man wasn’t a Demon, but he wasn’t Human either, as even Humans held a passive energy within their blood.

So, either Ghoul, or-

He turned then, sensing my presence as his face jumped in surprise, the oh so familiar sight of fangs overlapping his lip.

Vampyr. 

I hadn’t seen one in a while, and hadn’t thought them to exist in this world, discounting the Vatican’s many warnings and caution.

However, they called it this time.

Judging by the size of his fangs and the dilation of his pupils though, he wasn’t a blood drinker, likely was using Plasma… but his fangs were stained black… 

“You drink Demon blood.” I said then, completely shocked as the young man before me just looked at me with the same look of surprise.

I don’t know what he meant to do, following me as he was, but he likely didn’t expect me as I was.

He recognized me though, as there weren't too many Cambions with stark white hair running around...

“You’re… you’re the son of Sparda.” He said then, an aura you could call fear coming from him as he stepped back from me.

It was odd, seeing a creature of the night trying to escape me, but I guess I wasn’t a schoolboy anymore.

“Did you not realize that?” I asked the Vampyr then as the man just shook his head at me frantically, his crimson eyes wide and expecting… something.

Did he assume I was going to kill him? Granted, I left a lot of bodies in my wake, even hunting a few Werewolves here and there. (Sadly, they held none of Lupin’s heart.)

But, this utter fear was new.

“I… I just thought you were a Demon…” He admitted then as he realized I had cornered him into the doorway, his eyes begging me to release him.

“Demon blood can’t be good for you, but… I will admit I’m curious.” I admitted then as I stepped back, the man’s relief clear to see as he finally took a breath, for whatever good that did.

His lungs were hollow after all. 

“You… you’re not going to kill me?” He asked in turn, and I had a very uncomfortable memory spring up before I could stop it.

_‘You’re not going to kill me, right Harry?’_

Shaking my thoughts away, I considered the Vampyr.

He was young, perhaps a hundred, a fletchling by the Old Council's standards.

However… he held this energy to him, wild and unique, and I knew that was the Demon blood inside him.

Flashing a spell onto him, I checked his body, and was astounded. He wasn’t a Cambion, not in any way, but he was slowly becoming something similar.

A Vampyr drinking so much Demon blood, that he was slowly becoming a Demon.

I couldn’t just let him leave, now could I? A damn Daempyr walking the streets.

“Do you need a job?” I asked him then, his eyes growing crossed as that was likely the last thing he expected me to say.

“What?”

“Your clothes are falling apart and you’re addicted to Demon blood. I run a Demon hunting business, I think we can help each other here pal.” I said to him with a grin as I held a hand out to the man, who slowly and carefully took it.

“Now then, I believe introductions are the first part of any interview, but I’m on a case right now, if you could call ahead to the office tomorrow.” I said then, handing him the sorry excuse for a company card that I had drawn up, just a scribble of a Demon and my office number, but it was good enough for now. 

He looked back at me then as he pocketed the card, his eyes not exactly trusting me, but I saw the hunger in his eyes.

He began to walk off then, his eyes never leaving me as we went our separate ways, rain falling down around us as the storm carried on unburdened. 

Oh yes, we’ll get along just great.

* * *

If the home I had found Charlotte in looked haunted, this house looked perfect. 

White trimming across the foundation, precise measurements on the bushes and even the lawn, all sculpted to a perfect level that was just… inhuman.

This was the address Alfie had given me, but I got one big ol’ vibe from this place.

Trap, big old fucking trap.

With no time at all, Umbra and Godric were drawn and at my sides, and if Godric burned a bit of the hedge? No one would be the wiser.

Watching as the porch lights lit up at my arrival, I just walked forward and readied myself for a fight.

I was left disappointed as nothing at all awaited me on the porch, and the doorbell shined brilliantly before me.

A quick check later (Moody would be so proud of me), I rang the bell, expecting not much of anything, until the boy from before answered it.

His eyes were frightened but they grew wide upon seeing me, the door being thrown open by him.

“You came!” He cried out then, throwing himself at my legs as I stepped inside, the boy hanging off me in support.

“Yeah, where’s your mom kiddo?” I asked him then, only to hear the door slam close behind me, and Alfie… 

His eyes were now hollow husks as his mouth flew open, a scrap of paper clear to see on his tongue as he fell to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.

For that was what he truly was.

A Golem, brought to life for the sole purpose of luring me in.

“Golem, gotta give you props. I didn’t expect it, and you've got some style..” I said casually then, stepping over the puppet as I made my way into the living room and laid eyes on the woman before me.

Her hair was a blazing red, not too unlike a Weasley, but her eyes… they were a pure white. 

“It’s bad enough that I’m dealing with doomsday on a Tuesday, but now I’m trapped by a Reaper inside an illusion.” I muttered under my breath as I really wish I had a drink, the Reaper’s eyes seeming all too pleased in herself.

“The Avatar of Death… many of my kind worship you, have you realized that?” She asked me then, but her voice sounded… wrong. Like a thousand voices all speaking at the same time, and I realized why her aura hurt me just to look at it.

This was not a single Reaper, but hundreds all bundled together in a single vessel, much like a hellish clown car of souls.

Narrowing my eyes then, I knew this wasn’t a social call. The Reapers weren’t civil, nor pleasant.

“I know some of your kind are insane, but entertain me. Which Reaper is calling the shots here?” I asked then, my eyes looking deeper into those clear orbs as I could almost see the fleeting souls swimming through the body before me, veins and cracks splitting across the skin as it struggled to hold them all.

“We are united, but my name is Billie, and we’ve got a lot bigger concerns than your monster of the week.” She said then with some fire in her voice as the vessel stayed still and frozen, as I figured it couldn’t handle the stress of their presence and physical motion.

It was then that the walls began to tighten, color draining away around us as only this room remained. 

Damn illusions… but the Reapers were quick to recapture my gaze as I remembered her claims of bigger fish to fry.

“You mean that Death’s dying. He already told me, but I don’t see how that’s my problem.” I said then with a gruff as I took a seat on a armchair, my gaze locked on the form of the Reapers, the vessel only smiling in turn.

“Oh, but it is. You are his Avatar, and it is foretold you will ascend to take his place, unless you would prefer the multiverse to rip itself apart.” She said then in a cocky tone that I just hated, and I was instantly reminded why I didn’t deal with Reapers.

They were annoying and petty bitches and bastards.

“He told me.” I said then as I realized they wanted me to make a choice, and they wouldn’t give me time like Death had.

“Of course, you could always leave the mantle to us. I would carry on in his stead, and you could keep going. After all, you serve a just purpose and I would be glad to let you continue.” The Reaper said then, but I merely scowled at her as I tightened my hold on Godric's hilt.

I would never give her the leash to my existence, let her hold my afterlife over me when I eventually fulfilled my purpose.

When Death saw fit to die, I was breaking free of this awful game and going my own way.

“No dice white-walker, I’m not turning in my badge just yet.” I said with a sardonic grin as I stood, the illusion of the home fading around me as I found myself in just as much of a dump as the rest of the neighborhood was.

The Reapers simply glared at me in hatred then, a shrill buzzing emitting from their mouth as I recognized the sound of their true voices.

“Oh yeah, complain all you like, but you fucks can’t even touch me. Maybe come with candy next time, I’m sure that'll help me decide.” I said with a snark as I headed for the door, this entire trip being a waste as I felt a bad taste in my mouth.

Dread.

I had thought Death’s… well, death, was a gradual thing. After all, he wasn’t Human, I thought he would last a bit longer… but if the Reapers were getting involved? 

Seems the clock was running with less time than I thought… 

Well, it appears I would have to stall for time.

“If you do not take your place, then all will pay the price for your inaction.” She said then in parting as I froze at the door, my eyes lingering on the Golem at my feet.

“You could have chosen a hundred different ways to convince me, and you chose one of the worst. Talk to me in another thousand years.”

And with that, I left. 


	9. Campaign

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

  1. **June. AM 8:04. 1982**



**Arizona, United States**

* * *

“Can I get you anything sweetie?” The waitress said with a warm grin as I settled into the booth, the morning rays shining through as I rested for a bit after driving all night.

I had dropped Charlotte off at the manor with some difficulty, the girl refusing to leave my side, but Eva had managed to convince her to stay with promises of sweets.

My mother was very good at convincing people, human or otherwise.

Then, with the temperamental Rebellion in my back seat, I had left Red Grave and just started driving, as I knew Sparda would eventually contact me with the locations of the Seals.

So, I was burning time.

“I’m just passing through, but do you guys serve lunch already, or do I have to wait a few hours?” I asked her then with a grin, feeling the overwhelming desire for hamburgers.

Which was strange considering I had been surviving purely on pizza for a few years now, but maybe it was just a road trip that did that to me.

“We can serve you now. What would you like?” She asked me with a smile as she took out a pen, and I felt my Demon begin to grumble about the diner’s quality not being up to his standards.

My Demon side ate cold pizza, he didn’t get a say in what was quality food or not.

“Um, the largest cheeseburger, and a pot of coffee please.” I said with a grin as she just swept off to the kitchen as I was left behind in the diner. 

It was then that I was once again mourning the time period, as I so often used a cell phone to occupy my fidgeting nature, and now I had nothing at all.

However, a phone began to ring.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I took notice of a large rotary phone sitting on the table, the handle ringing despite the fact it held no cord.

Looking around at the other people in the diner, none seemed to even notice the phone.

Debating the merits of whether it was worth it, I picked up the phone.

“Dante Redgrave, Hell Hunter.” I said a bit slowly then as I held the receiver to my ear, looking around me in curiosity.

“Don’t be so concerned, no one else can see the phone.” The familiar voice of Sparda said to me then, his voice reassuring and jovial like he hadn’t sent me off with no directions to prevent the rising of three different Demon Lords.

“Good morning Sparda, Rebellion’s still a bitch.” I said in greeting as the Demon just scoffed at me over the phone.

“You just don’t treat her well, watch your tone and give her a chance. She won’t let you down.” He said to me, so sure of himself, but I merely rolled my eyes at him.

“Enough about your amazing sword Sparda, where am I supposed to go?” I asked him with purpose, as he hadn’t so much as even told me where to go to find the Seals.

“Argosax and Balrog are going to be a bit easier for you, considering they’re on Vie de Marli, there’s a Demon hunting clan there that should be able to help you. I sealed Argosax away using four holy relics, and they’re the only things that can break the Seal. I left the relics with the Clan’s Elders. I ask that you ensure everything is fine.” Sparda instructed me then as I took mental notes, trying to recall Vie de Marli in a map of this world. Wasn’t that somewhere off of the Mediterranean?

“Hold up a second there Sparda, how the hell am I supposed to get all the way out there? I can’t fly anywhere.” I argued then as he seemed to think that it would be no trouble for me to get halfway across the world on short notice.

Yes, I was able to teleport across entire oceans, but I had never actually gone anywhere in the Mediterranean Sea.

“You’re resourceful, I imagine you can get to Greece, yes?” He asked then as I could only answer yes, as I had been there before. 

“Good. Make your way to Greece, I’ll have a ship ready there to take you to Vie de Marli. Balrog was sealed along with Argosax, so you should be able to check in on him while you’re there.” 

“And Mundus?” I asked then as the waiter came back around with my meal, completely ignorant to the phone sitting beside my plate.

However, I had noticed that Sparda wasn’t talking much about his former friend, the one he had declared was the greatest threat to humanity.

“Mundus’ Seal… is much more difficult to check on. After you’ve ensured that Argosax and his ally are contained, you and I can discuss Mundus.” Sparda said then with a growl then, as I could practically feel the hate dripping off his words.

I had never learned why Sparda had turned against Mundus 

I knew it was long before he met Eva, but I imagine I would learn with time what makes a man turn against everything that had been ingrained in him for centuries and take up arms against his own family… 

“And if Argosax and Balrog are free?” I asked him then as I eyed my burger with pure and unadulterated lust, the angst of this conversation getting to me.

“Then I ask that you kill my brothers, leave nothing of them behind. The Seals were a second chance, if they have no remorse, then send them to oblivion.” Sparda said then with a finality that could not be ignored, the phone disappearing into thin air as he spoke the final line.

Absorbing what I knew now, I wasn’t looking forward to apparating my way across Europe, but I didn’t have much choice.

I’d need to fuel up, as magic of that level burned right through me.

“Sweetheart, can I get like… twenty-eight more burgers?”

* * *

“Is… is this Dante?” I was getting really confused by the fact phones shouldn’t be working this way, as a phone booth had begun to ring as I passed by it, the streets of Germany lying out before me with all the splendor a brewing storm could give.

Seeing not a soul around the booth, I had entered and expected a wrong number or something else, but not a chance.

I recognized the voice, it was the Vampyr I had met in Red Grave, but the voice wasn’t nearly as raspy as it had been.

I could only assume he had fed since that night, and while I had expected a call, I didn’t think it would be halfway across the world.

“Feeling better pal? I asked with a worried glance as I stood fully into the booth then, my eyes trailing down the streets as something didn’t fully feel right. 

“Much better. I can only apologize to you, Dante, I wasn’t in my right of mind. Hunger pains and all.” He said in turn as I merely accepted the reason, as there was much less Demons in Red Grave lately, and I was killing most of them after all. 

“I don’t think I caught your name before, friend.” I said then as my new ally merely laughed in turn then, the connection beginning to waver a little bit. 

“I suppose you didn’t. I go by Calvin most days, I suppose you’re going to ask about the Demon Blood?” He proposed then as I had wondered about the addiction, as it was far from common, but something struck my attention then.

“What kind of Vampyr has a name like Calvin?” 

“Not all of us were born Purebloods Dante, I didn’t choose this life…” 

“I know the feeling Cal, I do.” I said then, as I knew better than anyone what it felt like to have your entire life upended and a role thrust upon you that you had never asked for.

“Tell me about the blood then, that stuff’s gotta be foul as sludge.” I asked with a chuckle as the Vampyr laughed in turn, a dry and harmonious sound as the wind blew against the glass of the booth.

“I don’t remember when I started, but I didn’t want to drink from Humans, to drain them. My turning was an accident, otherwise I would be a husk like so many others left behind by my kind. Besides, Demon Blood… it’s almost like a drug.” He explained then as I listened on, his voice rising in levels as I started to think that drug was an understatement. 

Before he could try to convince me of all the joys of Demon Blood, I cut him off at the start.

“Alright, well I’m out of town for a bit, but if you need a place to stay you can crash at my shop. Just don’t trash the place and don’t get blood on the carpets.” I said to him then, stressing the part about the carpets.

I was sick and tired of cleaning blood and entrails out of shag carpeting, as with enough blood it all started to look the same.

“You don’t even know me, why would you do all this for me?” He asked then, his voice low as I considered it myself.

Why was I letting a Demon Blood junkie move into my home?

A part of me said because it was my fault, I was cutting into his food chain and making his life harder, so I should at least try to make up for it.

As well, I didn’t want the guy to go Nosferatu and start turning Red Grave into a bunch of red graves, so I was being proactive for once. 

As well, there was another reason.

“I’m out of town and I need someone to man the phones and deal with potential clients.”

“So… I’d be like, your partner?” He asked then, a youthful hope blossoming in his tone as I just wondered what I was getting into here. 

“Let’s see how you do as a secretary first.”

“I can do that.”

* * *

It had taken a few more jumps and a lot of energy that I would have preferred not to burn through so quickly, but I now stood in a port where Corinth had once stood.

It wasn’t my first time in Greece, but it was my first time seeing it in the modern age, all beautiful and totally not anything like I remembered.

Yeah, they kept some of the old monuments, but almost all the temples were gone and the food had honestly gotten worse as the centuries had gone by.

They had even kept the name the same, but it looked drastically different than in my time as the Osirison.

Casting my memories aside, I merely just sat on the port, a box of Baklava at my side along with a jug of coffee.

And yes, the coffee was necessary, but the Baklava wasn’t nearly as sweet as Aya used to make.

Small concessions. 

“So… you’re Sparda’s son.” A weak and weary voice said then as I turned to see an old woman make her way to me, a familiar looking staff being used as a cane. 

Another interesting thing about her however, was the fact she was a Cambion… or something similar. The Demon blood was clear to see in her aura, but it was diluted in a way. Perhaps multiple generations had lessened the strength of her blood, or at least the vigor of it. 

“You must be Matier.” 

The unofficial leader of the Vie de Marli's Clan, and one of Sparda’s most valiant allies during his uprising against Mundus and partially responsible for the imprisonments of both Argosax and Balrog and their continued capture. 

“You’re not as dense as he told me you would be.” She said then with a critical gaze as she came to stand beside me, the sea greeting both our gazes as an asshole of a bird wouldn’t stop squawking. 

“Yeah, Sparda likes saying a lot of bullshit. I think it’s how he deals with all of his trauma, making the world bleed over his twenty years of blue ball.” I said as my attention shifted to an old sea vessel, perhaps an old passenger cruiser, but one long abandoned.

Which of course meant that was the ship Sparda had sent for me. 

“Your father did say you were quite… poetic, but I believe his suspicions are for naught. The Seals on Vie de Marli are intact, our enemies still trapped within.” She said then with utmost certainty in her voice, but I didn’t want to think I had come all this way for nothing. 

Saying something is fine usually leads to it being the exact opposite, just look at the Titanic… just didn’t sink in this world.

God my examples aren’t even examples anymore… 

Putting my existential crisis on hold and with a quick gesture to vanish my food, I looked back at the horrible boat Matier had arrived on. 

“Well, I would hate to have wasted my time, so I’ll take a look at those Seals myself.” I said to her as her eyes just narrowed, obviously upset that I would not take her at her word, but I was not Sparda.

I had not known this clan for centuries, so I had no reason to trust them on their word, let alone go home when a strange old woman tells me not to investigate.

This was horror movie 101, you never listen to the wise old elder, you plow forward until you find the monster and gank it in the face. 

“I’ll notify the captain.”

“By the way, you guys have life preservers? Because I’m pretty sure the entire boat’s got a leak…”

* * *

Alright, sailing was officially the worst thing I ever experienced.

At least, sailing as a passenger, as I had always loved the freedom of being a Captain, guiding my vessel through open waters and feeling the kiss of the ocean’s breeze.

Instead, I was stuck on a rusted old ship, my only company being a possibly murderous old woman and a man that looked even older than her, if that was even possible. 

I had tried sleeping, only to get awoken almost immediately by the Captain’s yelling about whales or something, so my frustration had merely multiplied as I sat against the railing. 

I had been feeling good the day before, as I loved road trips. The open road, greasy food, and my mixtape that I had finally gotten around to remaking, it was heaven. 

And now my car was sitting in a sweltering parking lot in Arizona and I was stuck on a boat with two senior citizens that could probably still kick my ass.

Well, if I played fair, as I found that if I went against a foe unrestrained, a single punch was strong enough to cleave straight through the toughest of armor.

However, I wasn’t too big a fan of close combat or street fighting, so I tended to keep my distance or better yet, slice something apart like they were made of butter. More fun that way too. 

There was a reason I had designed Godric to be a burning blade, the usefulness alone wa-

“ _Could you stop bragging about your dull sword? It’s a bootleg Devil Arm and still you persist about it.”_

Oh yeah, I was alone with two old people and the damn sword Sparda kept throwing at me.

“Shut up Rebellion.”

_“No, you shut up. All you talk about is how precious your shotgun is, or how much your blade reminds you of the Sword of Gryffindor, or how-“_

“I haven’t said any of that, are you linked to me?” I asked then of the blade at my side, wondering how the hell it knew any of that. 

I haven’t even said the word Gryffindor in ages… 

_“Sparda already said it to you, many times. You and I are linked Deathspawn, I know all of you, and I don’t like what I see.”_ Rebellion bit back then, but I just scoffed at it as I looked over the sea over us. 

“Yeah, well I don’t like myself most days so we’ve got something in common, pal."

 _“We are not friends. You are the imposter that wears the flesh of my chosen, you do not deserve to wield me.”_ The blade almost growled out then as it began to glow a threatening crimson as I just set it on one of the threadbare lawn chairs that they had set up on the ship.

“I’m afraid a lot of people don’t deserve a lot of things, but we make do. Reality is often more disappointing than what we hope for, Rebellion.” I said then with some wisdom in my lazy grin as I considered my own words.

Things never turned out as they were planned, but so often they were always for the better, and usually due to my interference.

“Now then, Sparda thinks I need you Rebellion, but I don’t. That ‘dull sword’ as you called him, is more than glad to do your job for you, but if you want to do something other than sit on this ship, I’d suggest changing your tune.” I left it there as I walked back into the excuse for a cabin on the deck, more of a hatch that led below, Rebellion left to think to itself topside.

I would give it some time to itself, and hopefully it would be as useful as Sparda seemed to believe it was.

Otherwise, I would make due, as I always have.

* * *

“I see you’ve come anyway, Son of Sparda.” A man greeted me then as the ship had docked, Matier simply walked off without us as I assumed this man was assigned to be my guide.

“You know, the name’s Dante, really wish people would call me that rather than spouting off about Sparda each time I meet someone new…” I said with no small amount of frustration as the man just laughed, his fine clothing and insignia marking him as a member of the clan. 

“I’m sorry my friend, but many believe Sparda to be this greater than life figure, and as his son you are something of a Demigod to many of them. An entire generation has grown hearing stories of your father’s exploits.” The man said then as I followed behind him, the port left behind for an area akin to a plaza, a museum not far off from us.

“My father drinks lite beer and sits at home painting portraits of Hell that he sells to rich idiots. His exploits aren’t exactly admirable unless you count the time I had to stop him from invading Disneyland, and I quote “Because Walt owes me money.” I rambled on then as I thought of the prickly bastard, much to the surprise of my guide as the grass beneath our feet was exchanged for carved stone.

“It is odd, to hear one speak of the Dark Knight that way, but I suppose all legends are more than their stories, or what they do in their off time. I’m Alain.” My guide said as he tried not to be uncomfortable, a strong hand coming up to meet my own as he gestured me forward into the plaza.

“I believe I know your reason for coming here, and I assume you all is well, and the Seals are just as strong as they were when your Father first enacted then.” 

He was even smiling as he said that, but I just looked behind him as a siren began to blare in the otherwise silent afternoon, the beginnings of a smile on my lips.

“Everything is perfectly fine, and I’m sure Sparda would be more than hap-“ Alain tried to explain then, likely wanting to get me off the island as quickly as possible, only to be silenced as the museum exploded ahead of us.

Fire and debris shot off like shrapnel as I pulled Alain to the ground, the jagged remains of a statue flying over our heads as we barely avoided losing them. 

Watching the flames, I saw a large and imposing figure drag himself from the wreckage, and a pair of blazing white eyes stared into my very soul as it neared us.

**“A SON OF SPARDA, SUCH A SURPRISE.”**

I just looked to Alain then, the man pale and shaking behind me as he looked on in horror at the unleashed Demon Lord before us.

I just scoffed as my coat disappeared and I pulled both blades free of their hold, Godric’s flames and might joining Rebellion’s intensity and glare as I stepped towards the Demon. 

**“I SHALL NOT LET YOU SULLY THE PLEASURE OF MY DESTINY!”** Balrog, the Commander of Argosax’s armies, the leader of the forces of Hell in their once conquest of the Earth, bellowed out as he came closer and closer towards me.

I just blew out my held breath as flames ushered forth from the Demon’s body, just coming close to scalding me, my once white shirt now a seared black. 

“Oh yeah, the Seals are totally fine..”

* * *

_Sparda Manor, Red Grave City_

* * *

“Dear, is there something wrong?” Eva asked then as Sparda straightened in his chair, his brush left to the side as he stared off into space.

“Sparda?” 

“I feel like, somewhere out there…” Sparda began then, his eyes searching for meaning through the window of the manor, a large oak tree meeting his vision.

“What’s wrong?” Eva asked once more, her comforting and concerned touch on his shoulder as he lost himself once more to the void. 

“I have to go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slayer's Note:  
> I originally planned on completely ignoring the events of 2.  
> Then I realized that 2 wasn't complete trash from a story telling aspect, so I've used portions of it's story. This arc that's beginning with this chapter, is not 2.  
> Lucia isn't going to drop out of the sky and help out.  
> This is still just a set up for 3.  
> Also, Balrog sadly has no tag, but as part of my reimagined Hell lore, he'll have his own part to play.  
> Hope you enjoyed.  
> -Oscar


	10. Malevolence

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

“Don’t make me Gandalf the White you pal, just turn back around and get in your cage.” I said passively then as I stood before the burning might of the Demon Lord Balrog, the flames of his presence passing over me without injury as his eyes had never wavered anywhere but at mine. At least until he heard my declaration, which just amused him. 

The bastard even had the audacity to roll his eyes at me before the rage took back over, the brief amusement in his eyes melting away to molten rage. 

**“I HAVE WAITED DECADES FOR MY MOMENT OF LIBERATION, I WILL NOT LET ANOTHER SPARDA PREVENT ME FROM KILLING THAT BASTARD!”** Balrog screamed then as the very force of his voice blasted everything around me until only I stood against him and his power.

I barely noticed Alain and the others backing away from us, a horde of clan members rushing forward to form a defensive line to the place, my mind just trying to unravel what I just heard.

“Wait… Who are you trying to kill?” I asked in surprise as I stowed Godric away on my back, much to his displeasure, as I figured a burning blade wouldn’t do much against the flaming goliath before me and making the decision to take a dangerous chance.

 **“ARGOSAX, WHO ELSE?!”** Balrog screamed once more as I had to vault out of the way of his fist, as I could shrug off fire, but not a full bodied punch from the big brute.

Granted, it would barely be a tickle, but it would still be uncomfortable having to extract myself from between his flaming fingers. 

“Wait, I thought you’d be trying to help the guy breakout. You were his right hand man!” I called back to the Demon Lord as he merely laughed in turn, this horrible, grating thing that one would likely call painful rather than joyous.

 **“HE KEPT ME RESTRAINED FOR CENTURIES, FORCED TO DO HIS WILL! WHY WOULD I STAY MY HAND NOW, IN HIS MOMENT OF WEAKNESS!?”** He asked of me then as I planted the edge of Rebellion into the ground and stared back at the Demon Lord with interest and perhaps an inkling of wonder as he slung a wave of flames in my direction. 

With a mere wave of a hand, the flames evoraped into steam, but my eyes were only on him. 

“So… you just want to kill Argosax, what about Sparda? Most Demons want him dead.” I asked quizzically as I noticed Balrog’s efforts to squish me slowed as he began to look at me a bit calmer then, his motions slow as he approached me. 

**“Why would I desire his death? Only through his action was I even freed, I owe my fallen brother my freedom, but do not think that I would let that stop me from defending my destiny.”** Balrog said in a volume that wasn’t deafening then as the flames across his form began to cool, the poor island no longer suffering as it had before.

“Fallen? You… you think Sparda’s dead.” I said then in realization as I realized that Sparda might not have been all too right as Balrog seemed far from the horrible enforcer I had heard so much about, and maybe even more confused than I was. 

Was it possible that there wasn’t just bad blood between the Demon Lords?

 **“Sparda lives…?”** Balrog asked in shock then as the almost constant pain I felt in the Demon Lord’s presence dulled to a stop, the dark skin of the beast finally coming into view as he took on a form that wasn’t completely human, but less horrible than his usual attire… 

“Yeah, he was locked away for a few years but my brother and I freed him.” I said casually then, keeping Rebellion in my hand though as I approached him, knowing better than to not be careful in the presence of a Demon Lord. They all were Bipolar as hell.

Before my very eyes Balrog seemed to shrink, changing from pissed off Ogre into a broad man of frame, his eyes a burning orange as he looked at me.

Honestly, he was a sight, a naked man standing in the center of a flaming crater, the burning remains of the museum in the distance.

And despite all of that, I could only find the difference between Sparda and Balrog comical. 

“Come, I believe there’s words to be said.” He said so very casually, not like he had been slinging fire balls around and trying to kill me just moments before. 

“Maybe we get you some pants first… Uncle?”

* * *

“How long has it been, since Sparda sealed me away?” Balrog asked me calmly as we sat together in a diner, as I found food did wonders for diffusing tense family relations, and it worked well enough.

Sadly, Sparda refused any food that wasn’t made by Eve, which while sweet, made getting to know the man difficult. 

“Um… what was the last thing you remember?” I asked the Demon then, as I didn’t really know. Sparda had sent me after them without really explaining too much aside from their reputations, so I honestly didn’t know how long he’d been under. 

“Sparda defeated Argosax and declared him a danger to all life and sealed him in the heart of this island. I was not myself, so my brother locked me beneath the sea.” Balrog said then as an odd feeling came over us, the Demon practically ignoring the hamburger that I had ordered for him.

However, that didn’t help much… He didn’t mention anything about Mundus taking over… Which meant he had been sealed away long before Mundus took the throne of Hell, long before Sparda had sealed Mundus away.

Balrog only knew a Sparda under Mundus’ banner, not the Demon that had awoken to Justice and had sacrificed almost everything to protect humanity.

“That was centuries ago, I would assume. A lot’s changed since then, and so has Sparda.” I said rather blankly, as I honestly didn’t know how to break the news that his brother wasn’t a mindless evil drone any longer.

“You…” Balrog said then as he seemed to finally take true notice of me, looking confused at my face then. “Why would Sparda create a Cambion? Why would Mundus allow you your life?” 

“Because Sparda’s not really the same person you knew. After Argosax was defeated, Mundus took over Hell and wanted to destroy all of Humanity. Something in Sparda snapped then and he decided he couldn’t have that. He saved humanity and sealed Mundus away, just like he did to you two.” I spoke carefully, trying to gauge whether my new found uncle would burst back into the flaming giant and try to crush me over the outrage.

However, he just smiled a little then, his eyes lighting up as he finally picked up his burger.

“Sparda always seemed so… quiet. I had hated how Mundus would command him around, like he was a toy soldier rather than our brother. It does warm my heart that he has grown into his power.” Balrog said with something akin to pride in his voice then as I could only balk at him in confusion.

“So… you don’t hate humanity?”

“I will admit, I hated them long ago, but centuries sealed away gives one many chances for self reflection. Your father is quite right, there is merit in humanity. Perhaps Mundus’ youth got the better of him in the end, but I am grateful for Sparda’s wisdom.” Balrog said then as he finally tried the food, his eyes even widening a bit at the taste as his smile grew.

“This is quite good.”

“You said Mundus’ youth, what did you mean by that?” I asked him then as Sparda had spoken little of his brothers, let alone had the patience to recall their once bond as Balrog did.

“You do not know? Mundus is the youngest of our brood, whereas Argosax was the eldest.” Balrog explained then between bites, his wide gaze making it clear he had expected Sparda to explain more of our family. “However, Sparda was always the wisest.” 

With so much talk of Sparda and family, I kind of figured it was best to address That Night and explain a little bit more than I had. 

“You’re probably got this idea in your head uncle, but I didn’t really grow up with Sparda around. He got captured by some asshole Demon when I was a kid, and we only broke him out a year ago.” I said then as his look furrowed, obviously surprised that his brother had been so easily tricked.

I was too, since Sparda still had not given a reason behind his imprisonment or how he had even let it happen, but that was his bruised ego refusing to admit he had been got. 

“You mention a ‘we’, nephew. Who aided you in this venture?” He asked then in curiosity as I could only think of Vergil, rotting on a throne of poison and blood.

“My brother Vergil, we met each other recently after years apart and he talked me into going to Hell to free Sparda. The old man was trapped on the Infernal Throne until we freed him.” I said briskly then, preferring to not linger on the obvious. That Throne was likely burning Vergil up at this very moment, unless it had already devoured him.

“Your brother. I have two nephews. I did not expect such joyous news upon being freed, but today has revealed many truths, Nephew.” Balrog said with a warm smile then, reminding me way too much of my once Godfather despite looking nothing like him at all. 

Maybe it was the playful look in his eyes only met by his ferocious nature otherwise, but my heart felt the beginning of a bond forming with the Demon Lord before me, the Devil within me overjoyed to be reunited with another of our family.

Until the shoe dropped in my mind, and I readied myself to tell him what I hadn’t wanted to, when he just made it even worse.

“Is he here then, this Vergil?” 

His smile was so very genuine that I hated to pop the bubble he was holding and bring everything crashing down.

“No… Vergil’s taken control of Hell, he sits on the Infernal Throne.” I said quickly then, rathering to get it over with and deal with the fallout of my uncle’s reaction, only for the man to freeze and a new found sorrow to fill his gaze.

Grief for the nephew he didn’t even know he had before today, forced to take stock of every Demon to ensure that no harm would befall their home.

“Why does he endure it? Is Sparda not enough to maintain the Barrier?” 

I had expected that answer, as that had been my own question when we had stood in the throne room, and when I had refused to leave Vergil down there.

“Sparda’s imprisonment did its damage to him, and before that he split his power into three separate swords, for a reason that I don’t fully understand. The Throne would kill him.” 

The weight of Rebellion pulled down on me as I met Balrog’s gaze, the burning fierceness back in his eyes as he stood from the table in a rush, our food forgotten as I ran to catch up to him.

“Balrog! Where are you going?!” I called out then, worrying about the look he had carried and wondering if I would have to stop the uncle that I was just starting to care for.

He stopped then as I nearly ran into him, his face fierce as flames began to spread across his form, his face beginning to morph back into the horrific monster I had met him as.

“Your brother suffers because my brother could not handle the weight. I will finish this matter now, and I will go to Hell to free him of his burden.” He said with such certainty that I didn’t really want to fight him on the matter, but I had to reach him somehow.

“Listen, I know you want to kill Argosax, but it took Sparda and an entire clan of Cambions to take him down the first time. What if you release him and can’t handle it? He escapes and he’s free to destroy and kill once again? What then?” I asked him as I stepped closer to him, trying to impress upon him the fact that releasing Argosax could go far worse than he thought.

After all, Balrog was not the strongest of their family, and Sparda was in no condition to go for round two.

However, it was not like I would step aside for my family to have their grudge match, even though Balrog seemed to think he had to do this by himself.

“I must destroy Argosax if our family is ever to rest peacefully, I will not allow his existence to threaten the lives of anyone, ever again.” He said as his transformation was complete, the man that had stared at a hamburger like it was some abstract concept utterly gone as the monstrous Demon Lord surfaced. 

“This isn’t the best plan here, but if we’re marching off to gank your big bro, I’m not letting you go alone.” I said then, standing my ground with blade in hand as my uncle stared back at me, his will against mine as his aura came out to play.

Unseen to human eyes, his blazing orange presence shot towards me in a test of strength as I just laughed, letting loose for once in this life.

While his aura was wild and hungry like Fiendfyre, mine was more akin to a brilliant light, pushing his very aura back as I utterly halted his presence where it stood. 

Balrog’s eyes just stared at me in shock before the flames died out just the slightest bit and he nodded to me, conceding to my will and decision, 

“I will allow you to assist me in ending him. After all, he is your family too, but I will not be responsible for your death nephew. If you join me in this cleansing, you must not hold back, as the world rests on us.” Balrog said then as his gaze held such a serious nature that one would think a life was held in the balance, which I suppose it did.

All of humanity relied on us then, the two of us against one of the most vile Demon Lords to ever grace the Underworld. 

“Let’s go kick his ass.”

* * *

It wasn’t as easy as that however, as there were still the relics to deal with, all held by guardians of the clan, who weren’t being too helpful.

“Let me see if I understand. After befriending one of the Demon Lords that my ancestors have held hold of for centuries, and refusing to reseal him, you ask that my fellows and I simply allow you to free the greatest threat to humanity, and the one being that we swore we would give our very lives in hopes of keeping him locked away?” Matier asked of me in shock then as I stood beside her, Balrog having gone on his own to convince some of the other guardians to part with their relics. I imagine he wasn’t being nearly as diplomatic as I was…

“That’s basically it, yeah. My uncle and I want to kill Argosax and end the threat he poses, and we’d appreciate your help.” I said with a shrug as I didn’t find it too hard of a concept to understand.

We just wanted to let him out so we could kill him, simple.

“There are a thousand things wrong with your plan, and a million ways Argosax could slip away from your grasp. Do you have any idea of the untold damage Argosax could commit if he is let loose on the Human Realm? Are you prepared to chase him for the rest of your life? Purging every shadow and crevice to find him? Assuming he doesn’t just kill you.” She asked me then, her red eyes locked on mine as she stressed the risks, but I had already considered them and accepted them. 

I knew the risks, and I knew the dangers of this plan, but we had no other option here. 

Eventually Argosax would get free, either through being released or breaking out himself, and I doubted we would have such a good chance then as we did now. 

“I know the risks, and I know that we will never have an opportunity like this again. Don’t you want to rest knowing that he won’t break free some day, that your island won’t be destroyed by his fury? We will kill him, and you all can finally rest easy knowing a monster isn’t stewing beneath you.” I said then as her eyes still remained furious, but I needed their help, as I would not stoop to forcing them to part with the relics.

“Put your trust in me, that I won’t let Argosax free on the world.” I nearly begged the elder then as we stood there together, time seeming to freeze around us as everything slowed to a halt.

True and utter silence fell over us as the entire future of humanity hung in the balance, before finally she handed the staff over to me, my fingers wrapping firmly around it as the tip of it began to glow a light blue. 

“Do not make me regret this, Son of Sparda.”

“I’ll try not to.”

* * *

_BALROG_

* * *

His nephew had left for the town, believing himself the best one of them to convince the leader, while Balrog had resolved himself to retrieve the other relics hidden on the island.

Whether or not it took navigating through ruins of a city that he had known only months before in his memory, now reduced to shattered remnants of his time gone from this realm.

His nephew, Dante, had said that he had been sealed away for centuries… he had never noticed. 

His time under the ocean was chilling and oppressive, feeling the weight of the water pushing him ever further down into the depths, his flame and soul suppressed by the might of the ocean as he struggled against its veil. 

Now, he walked among the living once more, where once held temples to the Demon Lords were… diners and cafes, and something known as a hotel.

He had been gone for far too long, as it seemed their kind had long since faded from memory, only their once servants now plagued humanity, their masters long since vanished as they attacked like rabid beasts.

Holding two of the relics that held his traitor of a brother captive, he found himself drawn almost unnaturally to a home within the wastes, pristine despite all that happened to the world around it.

Novelty filling his gaze, Balrog stepped within, not expecting much at all aside from meeting a local or perhaps another of the clan Dante had known, not… 

A portly man, clearly aged beyond his time, his hair long and styled back in some sort of clip, his clothes simple and colorful, but those eyes… 

Violet and pulsing, thought the look on his face drew the Demon’s attention.

Not exactly angry, but a curious form of disappointment.

Balrog was confused, perhaps a bit furious, but then he felt the passive energy being let off the man before him.

He stood before another Demon Lord, however weak the man now was.

“You have grown old, brother.” Balrog said then as he stepped forward, Sparda metely staying in place as his eyes looked over his brother.

Sparda had always held love for Mundus more than the others, that familial affection being why he had always let their brother walk all over him, but Sparda had also been the most dangerous of them.

The thinker, the wise creature, they had once called him. Rather than wanting blood and the thrill of battle, Sparda would sit back and think, philosophy and poetry over rampage and fury. 

“And you shouldn’t be free Bal.” Sparda said then, his voice seeming to finally find him as the two stood apart, no attempt made to close the distance between them.

“Do not put blame on your son, Dante was not the key to my escape, but perhaps the instrument of my resolve.” Balrog said then, his mind free of the rage that had once consumed it as he stared at his brother, the one he had thought lost for so long.

Rather than dead, it appeared he had gone to play patron saint to the humans. He supposed they had needed his brother, as he did them in some bizarre way. 

“And your resolve, brother?” Sparda asked him, his voice cold and despondent as he purposely refused to apologize.

“To finally put an end to Argosax, as we all should have done long ago, and to relieve my other nephew of his hellish burden, a task you should have never put on him.” Balrog growled out then, his calm finally breaking at the cold and distant bastard that had become of his bookish brother.

“Vergil would not be swayed of his choice, I could not last on it, Dante had more use on the planet than in Hell, so Vergil bit the bullet. I had no choice.” Sparda said then, a defensive burr to his voice as they finally stepped away from the front of the home, the walls leaving them as the house itself drifted away to reveal the beauty of a garden. 

It’s serenity would not lead Balrog astray. 

“I could have carried the throne. Your son would never have had to suffer Hell’s crown, if you had actually trusted me.” 

Sparda turned on the spot then, his eyes aflame with magenta energy as a large blade appeared in his hand. 

A Devil Sword, how appropriate. 

“You were no better than Argosax! You would have broken the barrier in a second!” Sparda cried out then, a rage in his eyes that Balrog never would have expected to see aimed at him, but it did nothing to divert his course. 

“I was without choice. Argosax held my mind and would not release it. Only through his capture did I regain it, but you would not listen to my protests, sealing me away without a second thought.” Balrog argued sharply then, still remembering the shock of finally being in control, looking to his older brother with gratitude and glee.

Only to see not his brother, but the Legendary Dark Knight himself, glowing dangerously and with horns curled in malice. 

Balrog had stood no chance at all, his words falling on deaf ears as he had been pushed beneath the seas without a word.

“And then, when I finally manage to free myself, to try and do something to make you proud, you send your son to murder me. You could seal me away for eternity, but it appears you never had the guts for fratricide.” Balrog said then with a cold smile growing as Sparda recoiled, his form wavering and pale as he held his blade aloft.

“You have no idea of all I have sacrificed to protect humanity, no idea of the depths that I’ve sunk into to save the world of light from the brutality our brothers would subject them to. You acted with vicious delight our entire lives, enjoying the torment of others. How was I to trust you after having to seal our own brother away because he could not be trusted?” Sparda asked of him then, as Balrog could understand the stress of the moment, but he could not forgive the sins his brother had done to him.

“The problem is you sealed him away. Your son and I have come to correct that mistake. While I have awoken as you have, I do not carry a hope that our brother has done the same. We shall save humanity from a future where he still lingers unchecked.” Balrog explained as he could only ready himself as that damn sword came to meet him once more, the ribs of the sword radiating energy as flames began to course over his body once more.

“I poured all I had in his seal, to prevent him from darkening the world again, and now you want to release him? You were never the smartest Balrog, but I had doubted you to be this stupid.” 

“You judge me as if you’re still the Demon you were, but my nephew has told me the truths you hide. Your power is gone brother, those blades and the throne having taken all you had. You’re trapped in that form now, aren’t you?” Balrog took a guess then as he looked over the aged human before him and took notice of the flinch that coursed through it.

He was right.

“My body is of no concern of yours brother, our time has passed. If you had any idea of the dangers that lurk now, you would go back below the waves.” Sparda argued in turn, a cough on his lips as he struggled to hold his blade in check, but Balrog did not fall for his bluster of power.

“And allow my nephew to fight alone, with your pitiful form as his only help as his own brother withers away in Hell? Not a chance brother.” Balrog said then, a genuine smile glowing as he batted aside Sparda’s blade, the sword falling as the man lost the energy to hold it.

“Dante is more than enough…” Sparda tried to say then, his words breaking apart as the vision around them faded, plants replaced by rubble as Balrog held a hand out to the brother that had once forsaken him.

“That he may be, but it never hurts to have help.”

* * *

Night was beginning to fall as I stood in a clearing outside the town, a small campfire set at my feet as I looked over the relics in my care.

The Arcana, holy items used by Sparda to seal away his oldest brother, are now being used to break that very same seal.

I had left Balrog, the two of us splitting up to get two of the relics each, but now I simply awaited my uncle as the day fell to night and I was left alone.

A part of me doubted the Demon Prince, that traitorish voice in my mind saying that it had all been a lie, that at that moment, he could be trying to free Argosax through brute force, that I had been a fool.

Before I could fall too far into that train of thought, I felt a presence beside me as a shadow fell over the fire’s light.

“Hello again Nephew, I do believe we’re ready to begin.” Balrog said then, the large man coming to a rest beside me as two pieces of the Arcana now appeared before us, glowing with a holy light that neither of us felt right being in the presence of. 

It was then that I took notice of the blade that Balrog had set beside him, a large and arduous thing with what appeared to be rib bones stabbing out from beneath the blade itself.

The Devil inside me only said that it was familiar, the Scourge urging me to take it for myself.

“The hell is that sword?” I asked then as Balrog looked over it with a chuckle, the light of the fire now reflecting on the grim looking blade.

_Devil Sword Sparda_

“A rental, courtesy of your father. He and I had a discussion about his actions as of late.” Balrog said then as he just looked to the fire, the depths of it likely placating the Demon Lord as it was like looking into himself.

I had always found flames calming, even long before my ascension, so I could understand the solace he found within the blaze.

“So… are you ready for this uncle? We’re talking about killing your brother.” I asked then, my tone making it clear my intention to gauge his feelings, trying to ensure that he would not fall back when faced with the Demon’s presence.

Talk was one thing, promises of violence and vengeance, but I had found that sometimes it was harder to finally deal the death blow after spending so very long fantasizing about it. 

“I came to terms with the nature of Argosax long ago. My brothers were never men of virtue, but I had believed them all above making slaves of our siblings, as we had held some regard of respect and affection for each other. Argosax perverted that bond, took me as his slave. Unlike your father, Argosax is deserving of none of my mercy. His demise is long overdue, and much deserved.” Balrog said then as his voice began to lose himself in the sound of the inferno, his eyes shining in the night so intensely that I would believe him more of a man in grief than a Demon Lord preparing to save the future of humanity. 

“Then it is an honor to help you get back at your asshole of a brother, uncle.” I said then as I meant it, my smile likely being the only respite in the night as the fire began to wane. 

“No better person to join me. I believe the time has come, better to be done with it.” Balrog said with no small amount of hesitation as he rose, Sparda’s blade flying into his hand as his formidable form rose and I did the same.

Rebellion responded to my call and came on command, surprisingly silent and without retort as I felt the force of power vibrate within the sword, a calming presence that I had not felt from it previously. 

“Finally coming around huh?” I said with a smile as my uncle stood, the Arcana pieces following behind us as we found ourselves in a clearing, the land clear and vast as I allowed the relics to flow before me.

With no effort at all, the Arcana began to fuse together until a single metallic orb floating before us, a golden aura drifting off it as I looked to my uncle.

“Never gotten a chance to say it, but let’s summon a Demon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I jokingly complained in ny tags that Balrog from DMC has no tag...  
> Today, as I was setting new tags, lo and behold, Balrog has an official tag.  
> Thanks Ao3. <3  
> That's all I have to say.


	11. Majin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to respond to some reviews, shall we?
> 
> *To Dragonwings and your thoughts about a Pirate Harry life, Till Morning has been created, and it does indeed feature Harry as Captain Hook, or Harry Hook.
> 
> *To Phoenixcatch, Vergil will be addressed as we move forward into DMC 3, and some elements of later games will also be included as we go along. 
> 
> *To Emma... :D  
> Now then, onto the family reunion.

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

**29\. June. PM. 11:56. 1982**

**Vie de Marli, The Mediterranean Sea**

* * *

Centuries before, a battle had raged on this island, one that saw Humanity and the forces of Hell meet on the field of battle.

The lines were not drawn as expected however, rather than pure Human versus malicious Demon, the sides were impaired and unexpected.

In the forefront of an invasion from Hell, a Demon Lord by the name of Sparda had come to Humanity’s aid, blessing several chosen warriors with his strength to allow them to fight back against the forces of his brother, Argosax. 

The King of Hell, Argosax and his armies sought to destroy humanity and take Earth for their own, but Sparda had grown fond of humans.

Despite the sheer numbers against them, the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda led his forces to victory, dealing a crucial blow against his brother and ending the war there and then.

Refusing to kill his brother, Sparda consulted a mystical priestess, and with her aid, managed to seal his brother away within the very island itself. 

Trapped within the island’s core, Argosax lay asleep and unknowing as the centuries surpassed him, time lost and gone as it flowed over the sleeping tyrant.

Now, in an age long past the days of torment and terror, a Lord of Hell and an Avatar of Death had come together to release the former king of Hell, and fate would decide whether family would win out over hatred.

Or whether a war as old as humanity would begin again.

I knew my history, and I knew all the risks we faced here as we stood within the clearing, ignoring the grave sense of wrongness that swarmed my body.

My blood ran cold as a blazing light flashed before us, and a stone obelisk rose from the very ground, engravings glowing golden as it stood ominously over us in the dark of the night. 

“A Hell Gate, and an ancient one… These used to be the only ways to travel between the realms, but it’s clear to see that’s no longer the case.” Balrog muttered to me then as the flames returned to his form, his eyes blazing once more as we looked at each other as the Hell Gate fully began to glow, a scarlet shadow beginning to set from the sun’s embrace.

“If we die here nephew, and my brother goes free, then it was a pleasure getting to know you.” Balrog said to me as I could only grin at my uncle, the two of us standing before the literal force of Hell that began to blaze before us.

“I don’t think so uncle, he’s not going anywhere,” I said sharply as I began to build energy within my arms, my eyes set above us rather than at the growing swarm of darkness that had begun to circle us as a piercing feeling exploded within my chest.

“Protego Ultima.”

In a blinding flash of light, a pure silver field of energy burst into being around us as a wondrous dome closed us in, along with the emerging might of Argosax.

“If we die here, we’re taking your bastard of a brother with us. That shield’s not going down unless I let it.” I said, slightly weary as I staggered for a second, the spell taking much more from me than I had though.

That feral grin returned to Balrog’s face then as he stood before the growing darkness, the Devil Sword Sparda raised as Balrog’s flames illuminated the blade’s edge. 

However, as the dark gloom moved ever closer to us, the surface of the Hell Gate faded away to an endless void as a blazing light appeared within.

Before our very eyes stepped forth a supreme being from the darkness, burning brightly like if Ifrit had taken the sun into himself, it strode into our reality.

With a form made of flames and blade like wings stretching out to the far corners of my shield, the beast turned his featureless face to us, blazing horns reaching upward as he almost seemed to be watching us.

Despite the lack of vision, I knew damn well he was looking right at us. 

_Argosax, The Chaos Bringer_

My breath shallow, I readied Rebellion for a battle worse than anything it had faced thus far, the blade knowing that now was not the time to bicker as it’s edge shone in the twisted sunlight.

In turn, he looked at us as his wings began to move in, their bladelike edges coming dangerously close to impaling me at this point as his aura came ever closer to us.

**BROTHER**

Balrog flinched at the sound of the voice, his power only calming for a second before his righteous rage reinforced his grip on the Devil Sword, it’s strength carving a path through Argosax’s strength.

**ABOMINATION**

I just smiled at the Demon Lord then, a snarl on my lips as I tightened my hold on Rebellion, the Devil within me screaming in excitement for a worthy challenge at long last.

**YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE**

Argosax’s words drilled their way into my mind then, piercing all the way through my mental shields as his head merely tilted to the side, similar to a dog’s as he stared at us, Balrog’s flames burning brighter to match his brother’s.

“If I go out taking you with me, then I have lived my life to the fullest Brother.” Balrog said boldly and bravely in the face of his former brother, as I could only find admiration for the Demon Lord.

I couldn't agree with him more, but I wasn’t letting Hell’s little Angel take me out, nor was I losing the uncle I had just found.

Not a second time.

I held Rebellion out then, hardly believing that Argosax would be affected by spells such as Stopra, though it had become a favorite of mine, but neither did I think that spells alone would be enough.

Magic was incredible and amazing, but it held limits, and Argosax in his shining power looked for all the world like a limit.

However, I did know a power that could surpass it, but I would not let it come that far.

I couldn’t.

“I gotta say guys, this wasn’t the family reunion I expected.” I said with snark as I began to channel frost through Rebellion, the blade only slightly complaining as I felt the need for something a bit more for this one.

**PERISH**

“How about no?”

* * *

Balrog held his own, I’d give him that.

For all the infinite power that Argosax seemed to possess, he found himself forced to focus on the both of us, his blasts of Hellfire wavering as both my uncle and I drew closer.

It was odd as well, as Rebellion seemed to glow a strange azure color, a feeling in my gut forcing me to look to the Devil Sword of Sparda’s, and I knew what had happened.

The blade recognized its kin, and was made all more effective because of it.

With a smirk I parried aside a gust of flames that likely would burnt me to a crisp, Balrog merely forcing his way through the flames to reach their adversary. 

With a call to not be surpassed, I struck forward with blade and spell alike, Blizzagas flying from my lips as often as swears as I tried my best to turn down the heat on Argosax to no avail.

Balrog on the other hand desired to fight close and personally, trying to drive his brother onto the defense with winding blows from the blade, wide arches of pure flames flying from it’s edge to burn their way into Argosax’s glowing flesh.

However, despite our preferences, Argosax made it nearly impossible to fight him closely, so I adapted to his flow.

With the Rebellion sheathed, I pulled forth both Umbra and Lux, the pistol getting little use in the everyday drudgery of my job, but infusing the both with Blizzaza gave me the means to rain constant frost down on the flaming fuck.

With a crack like thunder, the barrels of both guns shattered slightly as a tide wave of frost shot forward, the air itself freezing around us as Argosaz was blasted backwards from the sheer force I has unleashed. 

**PATHETIC WHELP**

And yet, he shrugged it off as he just stood back us, unphased by the fact I had finally done something to affect him.

He just ignored my uncle as I threw spell after spell at the glowing bastard in some hope of killing him, even blasting him again with Aza spells as I had before, but the ethereal demon now shrugged everything off like I was using water guns.

As it went along I was honestly debating how far I would have to go to end this, feeling the chains I had created inside my mind begin to rattle as the Scourge only encouraged it.

To let loose for once in my existence and give no ground, to end this once and for all and obliterate him with every inch of my strength. 

However, I did pull my focus forward as Argosax jumped backwards as he took to the air, a light burning brightly behind him as flames sparked into life all around him.

The Demon within me called out a warning, a literal wall of flame beginning to form as I felt the hair on my arms stand on end.

“Accio Balrog!” I cried out the spell urgently as my uncle had been surging forward on the offensive, only to be stopped as I pulled him to me, my arms held out to catch his much larger form as he panicked at the rushing flames that sought to consume us.

**BURN**

“HOLY REFLECT!” 

The one spell that had sprung to my mind as we stood in the wake of death, a golden barrier of magic having sprung around us instantly as Argosax’s power washed over us, denied of the destruction he sought to bring down on us.

“Dante, you need to get out of here…” Balrog sputtered out then, his fear clear to see in his eyes as he probably feared that my fancy tricks wouldn’t be able to save me.

That his brother would win, however impossible that was considering who I was.

“Afraid not uncle. If I go, that giant shield falls, and Argosax goes free. Not gonna happen.” I said with a tired smirk then as he straightened his grip on the Devil Sword, my barrier only now falling as we once more faced off against my least favorite uncle. 

“Then we kill him, here and now nephew, hold nothing back.” Balrog said then with a new sense of solidarity as he took off against his brother, a sneer on his face as the Sparda sliced it’s way against the ground. 

I just marveled at him as his form grew ever larger, the flames licking across his body growing and burning as the scarlet flames lit up to a brighter blue, a scream echoing from him as he practically flew at his brother.

However, it was then as Balrog had finally managed to get close, the Devil Sword within range of Argosax as he swung for a final strike against our enemy, only for my breath to catch.

Balrog began gasping for breath, Argosax’s flaming arm pieced clear through his brother’s chest, the bloody claws flexing on the other side of him as an unholy laughter began to fill the air.

**ALWAYS THE SLAVE NEVER A KING**

And with that, he merely threw his brother aside as if he were a speck of dust on his coat, Balrog’s form falling limp as he hit the ground with an inhuman force, his flames extinguished and his body cold and still on the ground. 

However, I frowned as Argosax took hold of the Devil Sword, the sky falling dark as a blood red glow eclipsed the Sparda. 

With a noise not too dissimilar to screaming, he held it aloft as a dark energy began to bleed through the blade, a crack forming through it as black blood began to leak from it in waves. 

**FICKLE BLADE**

I did not let the distraction pass, as I had fought my way forward to the Demon Lord, Rebellion now raised at my side as I made to plunge the sword right through Argosax’s throat.

An inch away now, my blade’s edge drawing close to put an end to this farce of a reunion.

And then, overwhelming pain. 

A suffering I had never imagined as it felt as if every part of my being was burning at the very same time.

Being ripped apart and tortured as I could only look into the blazing face of Argosax, holding the Devil Sword that now rested comfortably within my gut, black blood spilling forth as I felt my guts begin to melt in a sludge.

And I felt Sparda begin to absorb me, my strength and body being pulled into the glowing blade as my mind began to crack. 

Oddly, I couldn’t feel the blade's edge within me, merely a deep and sickening pain as I was forced to my knees in defeat.

The sword of Sparda being driven deeper and deeper into my stomach as I felt the air leave my lungs, my eyes struggling to remain open in defiance to this bastard.

**AN ABOMINATION FELLED BY THE BLADE OF HIS SIRE**

It was then that I felt Argosax channel a fierce energy through the blade itself, my very body darkening and turning to mush around the blade.

The Scourge was responding to the invasion, pushing forward from my shattered form as it began to grow over me, but oddly enough… my Devil side was screaming.

Not in rage or indignation, but as if it had been waiting for some time for this to happen, but I just lay there as I felt myself slowly be brought to the brink of death.

Normally being impaled was nothing, but that damn blade was taking all that I had, the very magic in my bones being drained away as Argosax grew stronger, brighter, a horrible grin growing on his faceless form. 

However, I felt something then, like a light switch being flicked on inside my spirit, and I saw the blood from my body begin to freeze.

The air around me grew unbelievably cold, frost forming on my very skin as Argosax looked on in veiled surprise.

Finding this otherworldly strength filling the void that the Devil Sword had left, I found myself slowly standing, a hand on the sword as my eyes never left my enemy.

**IMPOSSIBLE**

When at last my feet found ground once more, I looked to the blade connecting me to my foe, and merely ripped it clean out of me as I saw my entire rib cage embedded on the blade’s edge like a macabre ornament. 

Taking a breath, I felt a sensation akin to fire as I felt my skin begin to change, morph from the usual pale to something very much else.

Horrible dark scales grew over my skin as my hands sharpened into something that could be generously called claws, a terrible pressure growing on my back as I could only scream forward in agony. 

The Devil Sword Sparda roared within my grasp as I felt my skin mend itself, my blood boil as I looked back at Argosax with a primal growl in my throat, power coursing through my veins like I had never known.

The Sparda was feeding off my aura like a parasite, encouraging me forward as a murderous overtook my mind.

This time, I didn't fight it.

I became it.

 **“You’re a real asshole pal.”** I snarled out with a flaming fury, my voice dark and painful as I braced myself as two draconian wings burst their way out from my spine. 

I felt their weight hover protectively above me as I began to blot out the few lights that remained in the dense night, looking for all the world a Fallen Angel.

_Devil Trigger Reaper_

Argosax practically ran from me then, falling back to throw blast after blast of energy and flames at my new form, but I just laughed as my flesh just absorbed his pitiful efforts.

My least favorite uncle let loose a look of panic then as he threw practically all he had in an attempt to kill me, but I just took step after step closer to him, the Sparda singing a song of vengeance and hateful glee within my hand.

After exhausting himself so utterly, the wings on Argosax’s forms evaporated into thin air and the flaming being fell to the ground, a shaking shiver going through his body as he looked at me with an aura of desperation.

I felt no pity for the bastard, and decided that this family drama was taking too long.

It was time to resolve this plot line.

Reaching out a hand, I pulled Argosax to me without a word, my clawed grip now closed tight around the angelic Demon’s throat as he only flailed against me in futility as he pleaded for mercy.

For which I held none.

 **“You talk a mean game, but I’ve killed far worse.”** I said as my vision changed and broke apart, a red haze falling over everything as I felt a trail of fangs force my mouth open and I gazee into the frightened face of the former king of Hell.

 **“However, I’m afraid you're an unpopular guy. You’re not making it to the sequel.”** I growled with a devilish grin as I felt the Demon try to raise his power to escape my grasp, but the waves of flame merely washed over me like water.

And with that, I in body and mind, ripped Argosax’s withered and blackened soul from his body, and tore the head messily off his body.

The world around me burst forwards in an unnatural light as the Hell Gate began to close in on itself, the obelisk collapsing and groaning as it was pulled once more into Hell, the ground beneath it being torn away in the process. 

Before I could even notice, the scales and wings drew back into me, and I was left standing there as the moon shone down on me in it’s splendor, a dead lord of Hell lying at my feet. 

Looking down, I saw the horrible excuse for a soul that Argosax had held, a putrid and decayed thing that barely registered with any sign of life, a horrible ruined being for all his desire to appear angelic. 

Noticing the form of my uncle stirring not far from me, and the Devil Sword Sparda gone from my hand, I just smiled at the soul I held within my hand, defenseless and afraid just as Argosax had been in his final moments.

Letting out a laugh, I crushed it in my palm like glass, a horrific scream not too unlike a Horcrux echoed out in the night as Argosax’s body began to fade away into ash.

I had never felt better.

“Jackpot.”

* * *

_Several Days Later. . ._

* * *

“Could someone turn out the damn light?” I muttered weakly as I came to, the warm bed beneath me making it clear that this all had not been a dream, but likely I was in a hospital judging by the strong smell of bleach.

Or I was kidnapped by a germaphobic serial killer, equally as likely considering how my week had gone.

“I believe the Humans call that the sun.” 

Ah, evidently my uncle survived as Balrog now committed the grave sin of waking me up, of which there was no redemption.

“Fuck off Balrog…” I groaned out as the Demon merely proved that he was in fact from Hell as he strode to open the curtains, letting in more light to drag me kicking and screaming from my blissful trip into oblivion.

I was definitely in a hospital bed, the entire room being a boring white as I took notice of my uncle standing happily by the window.

I noticed his form was different from before, likely it having had to regenerate some from the damage.

Where once a burnt and huge man had become my uncle, now he looked closer to Sparta in appearance, however his skin remained as dark as it had ever been. He did look more comforable in his own skin though, and I did see traces of white hair growing on his scalp, which confirmed it was at least somewhat hereditary as I took in his fashion sense.

Less of Vergil’s and Sparda’s former elegance, now my uncle looked like he would be right at home at Woodstock, his loose and colorful clothes assaulting my eyes this early in the morning. 

“How… how long have I been out?” I asked him as he merely pushed a tray of food towards me, the slice of pizza on it looking downright sinful as I gazed at it in lust.

“Some days, but the physician did not know what to do for you, so I told them rest would be the best measure and they left you to it.” Balrog explained with a smile then as he looked at me with… pride in his voice, as if I had proven myself in some way. 

I just glared as my exhaustion began to wane out over my curiosity.

“What’s that stupid look for?” 

Balrog just laughed at me in turn before giving me this beaming smile as he sat at the foot of my bed. 

“I was not aware Cambions could attain a Majin form, but I suppose I still have much to learn of this new world.” He said with a wistful and sad smile, but I was just left wondering what he was talking about now.

“The hell is a Majin?” 

He looked at me in surprise before standing again, only for his body to burst into flames, a human-sized version of his Demon form appearing in his place.

To my surprise then, he threw his arms back in a scream as the flames turned a blistering blue shade, an overwhelming light being let off as his body emanated a hellish heat that made me wish I could rip my own skin off just to cool down.

Just as quickly however, the aging hippie was back on my bed.

“Demons possess a unique ability to ascend to a greater form, known as Majin, though I do believe that it is referred to as a ‘Devil Trigger’ nowadays.” Balrog shrugged then before looking back at me with warm eyes.

“When my brother’s blade entered your body, it triggered that gauge within you and brought out your inner strength, allowing you to transform. I dear say I’m surprised this is the first you’ve heard of it, considering you live quite a dangerous life, Nephew.” Balrog said then, no judgement in his tone as I felt an… orb of sorts within my chest.

Where once the Devil within me had run wild throughout my mind and body, now it sat curled within me, the Scourge swirling around it protectively.

It was if it was dreaming, slumbering until I called forth its power.

“So I can pull a Goku, but what now?” I asked as I finally managed the energy to stand, plain fatigues on my form as I took one single look at the pile of burned clothes in the corner of the room.

So much for my coat… 

However I was instantly pleased to see Godric, Umbra, Lux, and Rebellion all stacked together on a desk. All polished to a shine, and I swear they had never looked nice, but the broken barrels on my guns stood out.

I would have to get Nell to repair them, if she didn't kill me for breaking them first… 

“Well, despite our vanquishing of Argosax, my plan remains unchanged, Dante.” Balrog said then, his voice falling as a sadness overtook him as I stared back at him.

“So, you’re still going to Hell.” 

I will admit, I had somehow grown to like the mischievous Demon I now called my uncle, and while I wanted nothing more than Vergil off that damn throne, I didn’t feel that Balrog deserved to take his place.

My uncle who had been sealed away for centuries, only to now finally be free, and still choosing to sacrifice himself to a similar imprisonment to set free the nephew he had never even met, simply because he knew it was unfair. 

“Your brother does not deserve the hand Fate has given him, and I will not let him suffer the price of Hell’s crown. I will free him, and I promise that you will be reunited.” Balrog said then, his eyes serious as I looked back at him, still surprised how things had so quickly changed.

I had reached this island a day ago, angry and determined to protect my brother, only to find an uncle I hadn’t expected and a means to free Vergil from his burden.

At the cost of the man I had met.

“I guess this is goodbye then, Uncle.” I said to him with a twinge of sadness as the man simply rested a comfortinf hand on my shoulder, a wry smile on his face.

“Don’t fret Nephew, we shall see each other again, and know this. I have seen the depths you would go to protect your brother, and I know that all too well. If only my brothers cared as you did, then perhaps we wouldn’t even be here.” Balrog said with a lingering tone then as he looked down, an ornate ring glowing on his finger as he stepped back from me.

I felt the demonic energies swelling through the ring, and I also felt the presence of Sparda.

“Your father gave me a way down, and I guess it is time. When your brother gets back, tell him he is loved.” 

With that, my uncle just smiled as a red energy coursed over him, crackling in the air like electricity as he beamed at me with affection.

“Live well Dante.”

And my uncle was gone, nothing but a trace of sulfur in the air that he had been here at all.

Looking over my weapons, and thinking of it all, I just collected them in silence as I made my way out of the hospital, my eyes looking listlessly around me. 

However, it was as I reached the front desk that I was stopped by a nurse, a phone receiver in her hand as she looked at me in worry.

“Excuse me sir, are you Dante Redgrave?” 

I just blinked at her in turn as I nodded, Rebellion humming from it’s place on my back as she looked at me with a small smile. 

“Sorry to bother you, but a worried young man’s been calling for you. If you would?” She asked me then, offering the phone to me as I just stepped closer to take it.

“Thanks… Hello?” I said into the thing, wondering who the hell was calling me now, probably Calvin just having problems at the shop, or maybe even Sparda spouting some shit-

“Dante...”

And the line cut out, leaving me dazed with a phone receiver in hand with only one name on my mind. 

“Vergil?”


	12. Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Dante finds himself confused and alone on the other side of the world, his family endures a hardship of their own as all of their lives change forever.

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

**30\. June. PM. 11:56. 1982**

**Sparda Manor, Red Grave City**

* * *

_Eva_

* * *

“So, where did you go?” Eva asked of her husband with no small amount of suspicion, the two having found themselves burning time in their home, Sparda having already finished his latest commission while she had been on the phone about tutors. 

Sparda froze suddenly under his wife’s gaze as he just leaned back in his seat, not daring to take a breath as he shifted his dressing robe aside, the bruises underneath carefully hidden.

Or so he thought.

“What do you mean love?” 

Oh yes, he thought he was so smooth and aloof, but any charisma he had once had burned away on that throne long ago.

“Yesterday. You just dropped everything, didn’t even explain yourself, and just teleported away like the world was ending. Where, did you go?” She asked once more, her tone fierce as she burned him alive with her very gaze, his eyes avoiding her at all cost.

He debated lying to her, or trying to downplay things just the smallest amount, just so he didn’t seem quite so villainous.

But he knew his wife, and she would see through literally any lie he could dream up.

She knew him too well to fall for his tricks.

“You know that I sent Dante out on a mission, one to do with Hell.” He stated to her plainly, her nod being given as she had known, and had been pissed beyond belief that neither of them had told her what it was.

Her son, the one that wasn’t burning to death in Hell, was being sent off by his idiot of a father to do some mysterious task across the world that could get him killed.

Suffice to say, her husband had been sleeping on the couch for some time now.

“Which he shouldn’t be, he should be here with us, but no. You just had to run him off and make him buy that trash heap.” She almost growled at him then, her frustration clear and obvious to see to literally anyone. 

Their butler, Janus, just pretended to not be listening as he began to heat up the tea kettle the next room over.

“You know good and well that Dante wanted his own space, but that isn’t important. You remember my brothers, yes?” He shifted her attention then, bringing her back to what he had only mentioned when they had married, the fact that he came from a family of murderous demons, quite literally.

“Mandus, Argo, and the rest right?” 

“Close enough. I locked them away behind several Seals thousands of years ago, but Dante had noticed something which makes me believe my Seals haven’t held quite as well as I assumed they had…” Sparda said softly then, a bit of humility actually sinking into his words, a concept that many would argue he was incapable of.

A lot of people, primarily followers of his, assumed that because he saved humanity, that he was this holy pillar of virtue and kindness.

In stark contrast, he was really an asshole of a demon that just got sick of killing innocent people. 

He awoke to justice, not to a good personality. 

“Oh wow, you actually admit that you’re not a god. What the hell happened?” She asked in actual wonder, asking herself where the narcissist she married went, because the demon before her wasn’t him.

“I never claimed to be a-“

“Fortuna.”

“Alright, I fucked up there, I admit it, but it wasn’t all my fault. Now, will you let me continue explaining my shady deeds to you woman?” He asked with an annoyed breath as she just smiled at him, her eyes vicious as he had the oddest feeling, like he was bleeding out in a shark tank. 

And he had married Jaws.

“Proceed.”

“Well, I sent Dante to make sure that the seals were still holding, and-“ He tried to continue his story, but his wife’s flaming eyes cut him off where he was, her words shooting out like bullets at him as he could only sit and take it.

“You sent him to kill your brothers if they broke out.”

The fact she guessed it didn’t surprise him, he had married her for her brain and she made good use of it, much to his misfortune. 

“Now Eva…”

“Fuck you. It’s bad enough Vergil’s in Hell, are you TRYING TO SEND DANTE THERE!?” She roared at him then, her fingers like claws as she actually struck him across his face, her nails leaving bloody streaks across his jawline as he just took the abuse.

He had done things that deserved far worse a punishment than whatever she would do to him, and frankly he had earned it. 

He hadn’t even gotten started yet… 

“Eva, if you could wait to kill me, I’m not finished.”

“LIKE HELL YOU ARE!” She cried out then in tears, backing away from him and back to her chair, likely fearing that if she lost her temper that she would kill him.

And he would let her.

“Please, reserve your judgement until I’m finished, do that for me.” He begged of her like he had never begged for anything then, only being eclipsed when he had made the mistake of asking Mundus to spare a child, of which he paid severely for.

His little brother had never tolerated insubordination, and neither did his wife.

Pulling himself together, Sparda continued in the same, empty tone as before.

“Charlotte is a Cambion, if you haven’t noticed. Dante assures me that she was not born of a Pure-Blood Demon, rather a Demon Lord. He is right, Charlotte is my niece.” 

Eva said nothing then, as she had honestly realized that from the moment Dante had brought her to them, her claws merely grew in the time she had been with them.

She remembered firmly the one time she had been trying to teach the girl math, only for her frustration to grow to the extent that the demonic taint on her claws had grown past her wrists. 

“Which brother then?” She asked him with a harsh edge, her anger ebbing out then as a coldness began to settle in her stomach, but she had to know.

He had told her much about his brothers over the years, even mentioned his sister Malphas a couple of times, but what he had said was rarely good.

She couldn’t imagine the consequences of one of them walking around Earth, or running into her son… 

“We aren’t sure. Dante left to find which seal had broken, and which one it was. When he got to the island, Balrog had broken free.” He explained as Eva merely tried to remember which one that was. He had several brothers, but mostly spoke only of Mundus. 

“Balrog? Like Lord of the-“ 

“No, not like that, but he is a flaming bastard just like in the film.” Sparda said with a grimace as he sat further back, his eyes going cold as he looked off into nothing.

“Dante didn’t kill him, they talked to each other. Apparently Balrog’s not as evil as he used to be…” 

“They talked…” Eva asked of him then, her eyes skeptical as he could only laugh a little, his tone harsh as she stared at him.

“It appears… that Argosax had controlled Balrog back in the day, that he had not meant to commit the atrocities that he did… and he only broke free when I sealed away Argosax…” Sparda said before cutting himself off, Eva fully catching onto what he meant.

“You sealed your brother away without even listening to him, didn’t you?” 

“Yes.”

“You’re a right bastard.” She said in turn, and he could only agree with her and he nodded as much.

“There’s more.”

“Of course there is, do continue telling me all the reasons why I should never touch you again.” She said with heat as she just looked away from him, Janus being so kind to place her tea before her then. “Janus doesn’t go around sealing his family away for eternity without even talking to them, now do you Janus?” 

“No ma’am, I even paid for the weddings of both of my sisters.”

“Why can’t you be that sweet Sparda!?” 

“I’m a Demon! What did you expect from me, wine and roses? Regardless, if I don’t tell you the rest, I never will.” Sparda said roughly as he waved off her swipe, her harsh gaze piercing on his skin. 

“So, Balrog told Dante about what all had happened, and two of them decided that they were going to release Argosax and kill him.” 

“And you stopped them, right?” Eva asked of him, praying that he wasn’t a completely terrible father, but she knew from the guilt-ridden look in his eyes and his lost gaze that he hadn’t.

“I tried to convince them, tried to convince Balrog to go back under the Seal, but I couldn’t do it… I confirmed that Balrog isn't Charlotte's father, and I gave Balrog my sword to ensure they could kill Argosax..” 

“And did they…?” She asked of him then, her voice low and gravely as she forced him to look at her, her gaze promising a slow and torturous death if he said anything close to no.

“Dante killed Argosax, and then Balrog… he decided that he would go to Hell. After learning of my rescue from the Bloody Palace, and of where Vergil was… Balrog decided that he would go to Hell, and take the Infernal Throne so that Vergil could return to Earth.” Sparda said then, his voice filling with a strange warmth then as Eva grew still.

“Let me see if I understand you.” Eva said with her voice plain and calm, but he knew that it was a facade.

“Your brother, who has been sealed away by you for who knows how long, chose to forgive you for ignoring his cries and just locking him away without listening, and then decided that rather than seeking revenge, that he wanted to not only help one of our sons, he wanted to save the other from being tortured in Hell…” She trailed on then as Sparda’s face only fell more and more, his actions only now fully registering in his mind as he realized how off he had been acting, and only now getting an inkling that he wasn’t as good of a person as he had pretended for so long. 

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Balrog is a better man that you’d ever be, or is there something else you’d like to tell me?" Eva cursed him with all the force of a blade to the heart as he could only cough in turn, the weakness that had been haunting him for some time once again kicking him when he was down.

“I… I think that Vergil may have been captured after he got back to Earth.” 

“You think…? You. THINK?!”

“Eva…” 

“DO NOT EVA ME! HOW DARE YOU SIT NEXT TO ME LIKE THIS, WHEN OUR SON IS IN DANGER?!” She yelled in fury then, her eyes a burning inferno as she stood in a flash, her hands clenched in agony as he refused to look at her.

“Eva, I have no doubt that Dante is looking for him.”

“GREAT, SINCE I CAN’T TRUST YOU TO DO ANYTHING!” She roared in turn, throwing her tea against the wall with no small amount of force, Sparda only flinching slightly as he looked to her feet.

“Eva, you have to understand-“

“Sparda… Get out of my house.” She said as she merely froze in place, her rage melting away as she fell slack, the anger that had consumed her only flying off as he finally met her eyes.

Her cold, furious eyes.

“Eva…”

“The only thing I understand, Sparda, is that I married the wrong Demon.”

* * *

_Charlotte_

* * *

There wasn’t a lot Charlotte understood of her life as it now was.

She knew she wasn’t Human, it was clear to her and everyone else, as humans didn’t have dark claws that could rip through flesh like it was paper. 

Humans didn’t have a little voice in the back of their head telling them to kill and eat everyone around them, well… not usually.

However, she liked to believe that she was smart, that she wasn’t a burden on the people around her.

She liked Dante, at least in the little she had seen him. He had saved her after all, and he was so powerful and brave that she couldn’t help but wish she could be like him, but instead she couldn’t even handle her own thoughts most days… let alone protecting people.

And now… she had chosen to spy on her caretakers, Ms. Eva easily being her favorite of the two, as she was so much nicer than Mr. Sparda was.

He was all rules and consequences, whereas Ms. Eva was nice and gave her pretty dresses and made cookies when she messed up in her lessons. 

She liked listening to what they said, as it was always interesting… until now.

“I’m… I’m a demon?” Charlotte had asked herself in the safety of her room, the colorful posters on her wall only mocking her now as she finally had the answer to what was wrong with her, of why people hated her.

Why her father had locked her away, called her a monster.

Because she was one… 

Looking down at her hands, she could only find them fitting.

Horrible claws, fit for a horrible creature. One’s meant to hurt people, capable only of killing and ruining lives.

She wondered who she was kidding, trying to go to school and be normal, when one look at her said enough.

She had felt bad enough, taking up Ms. Eva’s time and attention when she wasn’t their child, but now she felt only worse… 

What if she hurt them? It was clear Ms. Eva was human, and while Mr. Sparda was like her, he was old and sick… 

He couldn’t protect anyone from her, and he couldn’t stop her either.

She got so angry sometimes, and she always felt this burning inside of her, like… a power that demanded to be let out, to be… used.

It felt dirty, like oil on her soul, and she didn’t like it.

She hated it, believing that it was the truth, that she could only hurt the ones she cared about, like her mother… 

And now, she had caused trouble between her caretakers, the people that had taken her in without complaint, that had cared for her like no one else…

She had hurt them… 

And, as she sat there and began to cry, she made a decision.

When night fell, and they went to sleep, she would leave.

She would run away, before she did something worse than hurt them.

She didn’t want to kill them.

**_“FOOLISH GIRL, YOU WILL KILL EVERYONE.”_ **

* * *

_Balrog_

* * *

Balrog hadn’t known what he expected when he reached Hell.

Perhaps waves of his former minions, all preferring to kill him rather than once again fall under his command.

Perhaps to be tricked by one of his former allies, likely having grown jaded and hateful in the time he had been locked away, seeking his blood for abandoning them.

He certainly had not expected Hell to be as empty as it was, silent and sorrowful, like the very land itself was missing those that had been locked away far below.

The horrid streets of Hell ran empty, little light filled the land as he walked through the wasteland, the place he once called home now an unfamiliar and unfriendly desert, devoid of life and blood.

He had known that it had been wasting away under Sparda’s control as he had not in control, merely had his power seeped away to provide Hell with vigor and strength, but not in control.

It was clear that without a leader, the Demons of Hell had rebelled… and if he had to guess from how empty the wastes were, the Demons had likely escaped.

He had assumed that things would get better with his Nephew on the throne, as Dante had said so proudly of how wise and competent his brother was, and Balrog had fully assumed he could manage it.

However, judging by the horrid mess that Hell had become, he was wrong.

Oh so wrong.

* * *

It had been a trivial task for him to make his way to the Bloody Palace, and the throne, as to his utter and inescapable surprise, there were no defenses left to protect the throne.

All nine-thousand plus floors, all empty and silent as not a single Demon had stayed to protect the throne.

Hell was empty.

After roughly an hour spent rushing through portal after portal, finally Balrog had reached the last, and emerged onto the ten-thousandth floor. 

He had expected some grandeur, the familar scarlet banners of the throne room, perhaps a servant or two to welcome him home, and certainly he expected to see his nephew on the throne.

He certainly hadn’t expected an empty throne, blood on the floor as shards of metal littered the floor before the throne.

Balrog held his breath then as he ventured forth, his eyes falling to the blackened blood, and he knew it had to have fallen from his nephew.

The metal shards were curious, as he felt a dormant power leaking from the shards.

A… Devil Arm, the shattered remains of a weapon, broken under extreme and unstoppable force.

For a reason he wasn’t sure of, he found himself drawn beyond the throne, to the patch of shadows hiding what once had been a court audience, and to an odd object.

A hilt of a blade, albeit a thin and long one, not that of a usual sword.

Perhaps, a katana, that odd blade he had only seen a few times in his travels on the planet, long ago.

Taking the hilt in hand, he held it aloft and marveled at it in curiosity. 

_Yamato_

Though he knew not the name of this Devil Arm, or to who it had belonged, he felt his brother’s energy within and knew that something horrid had happened here.

His nephew was gone, the throne of Hell had been left unguarded, and Hell was empty.

With the hilt of the broken blade in hand, he sat upon the Throne of Hell, and despaired that he could not be of more use, and dedicated his attention to repairing the barrier between Hell and Earth.

The barrier itself had been damaged and pierced so severely that it had barely held on, any Demon that had desired to could have passed onto Earth with no difficulty at all. 

He only hoped that his family was prepared…

* * *

_V E R G I L_

* * *

He couldn’t feel his legs.

Vergil couldn’t feel anything really, but he had felt this for so long that it didn’t matter anymore.

Nothing mattered.

He didn’t matter, he was no one, nothing.

He had always been nothing, would always be nothing.

He had no family, no friends, he had no future or life of his own.

**YOU ARE MINE**

“I am yours…” He muttered out then, his voice completely empty and lifeless as his eyes stared aimlessly into the void around him, his gaze unseeing and unfeeling as he drifted on the edge of life and death.

**YOU WILL DO ALL THAT IS ASKED**

“I will do all that is asked…” 

Unbeknownst to the former Son of Sparda, his naked form was no longer thus as a dark sludge drew closer to the man, a hungry energy beginning to hover over him.

**YOU SHALL BE BORN ANEW**

“I shall be born anew…” 

Within moments, it began to cling to his pale legs and expand, the filthy organism piercing it’s way through his flesh as he only closed his eyes to fight through the sheer agony.

**YOU WILL KILL ANY AND ALL**

“I will… kill any… and all...” 

It traveled to his chest then, the sludge pausing to punch a hole clean through his navel, the spell upon his soul being broken only then as he screamed aloud in pure and unadulterated pain, his very mind shattering under the intense and unholy pressure.

**YOU WILL KILL SPARDA**

“MAKE IT STOP!” The man with no name screamed out then, his eyes burning in the ever unknown void, his very flesh burning around his bones as each and every bone in his body began to break and remold within him.

The creature that covered his flesh moved ever onward, ignoring his breaking form as it submerged him within it’s depths, his mouth wide and screeching as the dark sludge began to pour its way down his throat.

**YOU WILL KILL SPARDA**

He began to cry then as he couldn’t breath, only guttural choking being let out as his tears began to turn a bright red, his very blood trying to leave the hell that had become his body.

He felt the creature fill his lungs then, purging the germs within his body as he began to lose the last vestiges of his humanity, and he crumbled as it fully encaptured his skull.

With time, the creature began to thicken, his body growing armor and shielding as he grew from his frail and broken form to a great and mighty beast of a Demon.

**YOU WILL KILL SPARDA**

His eyes shot open then, what were once a frigid blue, now a burning and rageful crimson.

Where once were flowing white locks on his head, now rested two curled horns, much akin to the form his father had been born with and eventually threw aside in pursuit of humanity. 

**“I will kill Sparda.”**

With his transformation complete, the void around him began to sink away, and he was once more in the realm of Humans, the sun above him filling him with nothing but rage.

Somewhere far below him, a being beyond humanity began to laugh, and a bond between two brothers shattered painfully, leaving a man broken in the heart as he felt the death of his brother.

**RISE**

With that command, the man once known as Vergil stood as his armor shielded him from the wounds of man, and held his very heart captive within a cage of Demonic power.

With eyes sharp and furious, he looked forward at what appeared to be a motel, but as he was now, he knew not such fine details of the human world.

He only knew that it held the man he was taught to seek, to kill and begin anew a war against life itself, and to set forth the holy return of his lord and master.

**YOU ARE NOT HIS SON**

**“I am not his son.”**

With the grace of a ghost, he pulled forth a large and unwieldy blade, a shard within glowing brightly and with unstoppable power as it roared in the light that it wished to extinguish.

**YOU ARE NELO ANGELO**

**“I am Nelo Angelo.”**


	13. Fractured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the bond to his brother shattered, and for all the signs saying that he's dead, Dante vows to find him.  
> However, the reunion of family would have to wait as plots begin to unfold around them all as a force older than Humanity comes forward to seek revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Dante's Awakening Arc.

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

**1\. July. AM. 9:47. 1982**

**The Valentro Inn, England**

* * *

“You know, when the Grandmaster sent me to look after our extra Black Cross, I did not expect to find you in such a sorry state.” A posh and sharp voice said aloud as I was dragged back into the world of the living, the last day a slog to remember.

I, of course, could recall with perfect clarity my uncle leaving to take the Throne of Hell, and the brief phone call I had gotten from my brother, which did nothing to ease my worries, but the rest of the day passed in a blur that was only broken by the shattering of my bond with Vergil…

I hadn't taken that well at all, I'll admit that, but I refused to believe he was dead, he was too proud to die.

So I decided I would find him.

Evidently I checked into a hotel, judging by the luxurious hotel room around me, and clearly cut into my savings… and now one of my minders was here…

A habit I had formed over my existence was to always check in with the Templar Order wherever I found them, as I had grown protective of my former associates. 

Occasionally the Order was on the down and out, barely holding on, but sometimes they thrived and grew at an extreme rate.

In this world they had succeeded beyond my imagination, having long wiped out the Assassins and taken hold of the Catholic Church all together. 

Behind the veil, they operated much like the Ministry of Mysteries once had, faceless operatives going by single names to conceal their presence, working under orders from the Vatican and the Grandmaster himself… Who I was still convinced was secretly a Demon.

As usual, I resumed my duty as the Black Cross and found myself helping the Templars with their Demon problem, but this Order tended to be a bit more annoying then the ones of my past.

Elliot, one of the Inner Circle now stood in my hotel room, the man just looking across my bedspread at the multiple empty pizza boxes that shared the bed with me.

I just stared at him as I would not allow this man to judge me, let alone shame me as I got enough of that from my mother.

“Elliot, to what do I owe the displeasure of having to hear your voice?” I asked with extreme grogginess in my tone as I nearly tripped out of the bed, Rebellion still laying on the pillow beside me.

“Well, the Grandmaster has some concerns about recent events, and as the Black Cross you are the most equipped to address them.” The man said with a grimace as he cleared a spot on the bed with disgust as he set forth a leather briefcase, a golden cross embedded on the lock.

“As usual, you bring me a gift to bribe me into cleaning up your messes…” I said with a tired smirk as I pulled the case to me, popping it open as I noticed what appeared to be a SMG of sorts, the metal a bright emerald with silver accents, several magazines setting beside it as my eyebrows shot up.

It was a nice piece, even if I wasn’t so used to automatic weaponry, but with Umbra and Lux out of commission until I could visit Nell, I wasn’t opposed to a temporary replacement, Reparo only messing with the enchantments on the guns after all. 

Beside it all sat a… leather shoe.

“I believe you’re familiar with the concept. A Portkey to New York.” Elliot said with a wry grin as I just looked at him before taking a breath then, the man’s smile just widening as I sat back down.

“You know, I’ve got a lot of things on my plate right now, but go on, tell me what’s up this time.”

“A mysterious tower has risen in the middle of New York City, and Demons are practically swarming out of it. The President has yet to address it, but the Grandmaster has decreed it a ‘Dark Days” scenario. All operatives are to enter the city and prevent severe casualties as is possible.” Elliot said as he picked up one of the magazines, a bullet falling from it and shining in the light. “Holy Shot rounds, blessed by the Grandmaster himself. Use them well.” 

I just rolled my eyes and set the weapon aside, my eyes narrowed as I glanced at my contact with skepticism.

“You’re not telling me something. A damn Demon tower doesn’t just rise up for no reason, the hell is going on?” I growled out then as I stood, the fact that I was naked doing nothing to cut away from my fury.

But really, what did I do last night? 

“Have you ever heard of the Temen-ni-gru? It was a bastion of power for the Demons during their invasion of Earth, and their seat of power in the Human Realm. Two-thousand years ago, Sparda sealed the tower away beneath the Earth, alongside the Seven Sins and other monstrosities. The Order asks that you enter the tower and send it back to Hell, while we track down and imprison the Sins that have scattered across the globe.” Elliot explained to me as I took notice of a folder within the case that I hadn’t seen before, pulled it free to familiarize myself with the mission specifics. 

Photographs of the tower, the shattered streets of New York, and photographs of seven different Demons, all in human form.

“The Sins are free?” I asked with a quiet mutter then, as I had personally seen the effects of the Sins, Death having enlisted my help to kill them about twenty lives ago.

Seems I didn’t kill them well enough… 

“Yes, but they are not the priority here. Temen-ni-gru is slowly rising further and further into our realm, and when it has completed its accession onto Earth, the Order believes it will completely shatter the Barrier between Hell and Earth.” 

I just stared at him then, as he took so much time to get to the point. If the barrier broke… it would be apocalypse now, the end of days, at least for this world at least.

I was strong as hell, that was to be sure, but not even I could survive fighting the entire forces of Hell. 

I was the embodiment of Quality, but Quantity would win out in this case. 

“How long until that Portkey takes off?” I asked with certainty and resolve growing in my voice, standing strongly as Elliot merely nodded at me with a sincere smile on his smug face. 

“An hour. The Order figured that with your slaying of Argosax, that you would need a change of clothes. Another gift rests in the closet, think nothing of it, but ensure you are prepared when the time ticks down.” He said with a stern warning in his tone as I threw open the closet doors to see a finely pressed burgundy suit, a silver vest and darkened shirt resting beside it. 

Oh yes, this would do very nicely.

Elliot then stood as he made for the door, his stupid fedora falling over his eyes as he did.

“Good luck Dante, and I have a feeling that your concerns and ours will collide.”

And with that cryptic ass farewell, Elliot aparated away as I was left to dress, my new weapon practically staring at me from the bed. 

“Well, I can’t really leave you unnamed, now can I?” I said with a smirk as I began to button the finicky shirt, but I felt a bit better than I had before.

And besides, I did have to think up a name for the firearm, as I had taken to naming all of my weapons as they would become extensions of myself in a way.

I was one to get personal over my weapons after all, as they were my expression of justice onto the world. 

“How about… Salazar?”

* * *

**11:00**

**New York City, United States**

* * *

I don’t know what I really expected as I set foot inside New York, Salazar swung around my chest as I felt cold winds buffel against my blazer.

Kinda missed my old coat, way better at keeping the wind out when I couldn’t be bothered to cast a warming charm.

What I really should have expected was a gothic tower that broke through the ground and seemed determined to blot out the sun and plunge the world into darkness, hordes of flying Demons emerging from windows far into the sky. 

I could certainly see why the Order had classed it a Dark Day, as the streets were literally swarming with Demons and not a single living human was in sight, merely bodies and wanton destruction.

However, I remained undetected by the masses, their attention seeming to be on breaking into an aged apartment building.

 _Found where the people are…_ I thought to myself then as I began to aim Salazar at the writhing mass of Demons, a snarky smile on my lips as my eyes lit up.

I whistled. 

And as they turned their heads to look my way, I opened fire on the ground of them, my rounds cleaving gaping holes through the Demons and more importantly, their heads. 

Looking down at the oozing slush that remained of them, I could only smile at the group of Demons that swept in as reinforcements.

“From Slytherin with love, boys!”

* * *

I was surprised to see hordes of paramilitary forces converging around the tower itself, rifles firing off burning golden rounds into the swarms of Demons as an ever growing pile of bodies grew.

I had initially thought them to be the actual military, but I knew that the President couldn’t have mobilized them so quickly, and then I noticed the Cross emblazoned across the helmets of each of the soldiers.

The Order had arrived before I did, and as their Holy Shots began to fight back the horde, I just focused on a literal wave of the beasts, and smiled a sharp grin full of teeth.

“Bombarda Maxima.” 

And where once was a pissed and grumpy swarm of Hell’s finest, now lay a black mulch of demon innards, which I could only assume Calvin would be interested in.

Maybe I could bring him home a doggy bag, though it’d have to be a big bag… 

Regardless, I merely approached the Order forces with a nod, the Templars splitting up as I stepped into their midst.

One of them, a tall soldier with a crimson cross across his helm looked to me then, what appeared to be a sniper rifle and machine gun hybrid held firmly in his hands. 

“Black Cross, it’s an honor to meet you. Order Operative Sigma, the situation is dire sir. The Temen-ni-gru grows every fifteen minutes and the forces leaving it don’t seem to be stopping. What is really going on?” The soldier, Sigma, asked me then as I could only see the panic and confusion resting in his eyes as the edge of his helmet bore a crack through the plating.

These men were battered and bruised, and they were mine.

“How is the evacuation going? Are there still civilians in the city?” I barked out then, all humor and pretense of humanity draining away from my voice as I noticed a darkened wound in the chest of one of the Templars, the gash beginning to fester as it was obvious he was trying to hide it.

Raising a hand, I felt a demonic presence within the wound, which if left untreated would eventually become yet another case of the Starscourge.

Not willing to have a full on resurgence of it in this world, I just pulled forth what little of it lingered in the man before I turned back to Operative Sigma, the Demonic energy merely bleeding away into my core. 

“Most of the city’s been evacuated, but we did get a signal from Kenway Battalion. They’re saying that there is a force of civilians in the subway attempting to fight off Demons.” A different soldier answered for him, this one a woman in dark armor, a bright blue cross wrapping around her helmet in what appeared to be spray paint. 

“You all need to fall back to the tunnels and get those civilians out of the city. Hell’s been cracked open, and all of the Demons in Hell seemed to have shown up for the party. If I had to guess, the barrier’s been weakened enough for them all to pass through, but if this tower gets finished, you can kiss Humanity goodbye.” I said to the group then as I felt no need to mince words when facing the chance of a literal doomsday, and for the second time this week… 

“Can the barrier be fixed sir? Order Operative Theta.” The Templar from before asked me, her eyes calculating as she plunged her broadsword clean through the mouth of a stumbling Demon, the dark blood merely coating her armor as if it were rain.

“Already have a guy on that on the other side fellas, but now I have to do my part. Get going, I’m taking this card stack down from the inside.” I said with a dark grin as I brushed aside the concerns of the soldiers, a large and practically medieval door looming before me as atop the Temen-ni-gru was a blazing flame burning brightly, casting a scalding light within its shadow.

“Eat your heart out Sauron.”

* * *

_Sparda_

**(Red Grave City, The Night Before…)**

* * *

“Damn you Balrog…” Sparda said with some annoyance as he sat on the horrid thing the place called a bed, the light flickering overhead as he listened aimlessly to the television.

He had left so suddenly that he hadn’t been able to grab anything, let alone his wallet, and Eva and her guards wouldn’t even let him back on the property.

So, what little money he had was put to use getting himself a room at the closest motel, his eyes seeming to refuse to stay open as his empty stomach growled at him worse than any beast he had slain or brother detained. 

He hadn’t really been interested in the slop the motel had been selling in the lobby, let alone desperate enough to take a look at whatever was that god awful smell within the room’s fridge, so he resolved himself to starve until Eva let him come back. 

And yet, with about twenty dollars left, he began to eye the phone in the room, a yellow phone book resting comfortably beside it.

He had to get something to eat after all, and with how long Eva could hold a grudge for, perhaps it would be best to merely order something in? 

Now then, what was the name of the place Dante always said was good… Antonio’s, wasn’t it?

With some searching through the book and with the number entered, he just rested on the facade of a bed with the phone in hand, his eyes burning a hole through the dreadfully leaking ceiling.

“This is Antonio’s Pizza, home of the Hell-Baked Calzone, and as company policy states, if you are Dante Redgrave, we reserve the right to refuse you service. Please hold.” A recording played off then as Sparda rolled his eyes, wondering who else Dante had managed to piss off in recent times, and found it likely most of humanity by now.

Their lawyers made a living off of their son alone. 

“This is Todd, how can-“

It was just as Sparda had finally been connected to an actual employee, that a fearsome fist burst its way through the motel wall, it’s clawed grasp crushing the phone as if it were papier-mâché. 

Slowly rising from the bed, an annoyed glare entered Sparda’s eyes as he slipped his feet back into his yellow sandals, a weary eye falling on the monster that now forced its way into his room.

It was a Demon quite obviously, horns very similar to his own adorning the thing’s face as plaster and drywall fell around it in a storm of dust.

With blazing scarlet eyes and growing veins that Sparda knew were filled with Human Blood to enhance the beast’s strength, he struck a composed stance as it made itself known.

“I spent thirty dollars on this room, and you’ve gone and destroyed it. I will not be paying for it now, and you didn’t even bring something to eat. Horrible service.” Sparda said with a disgusted sneer as the Demon merely froze, it’s head cocked to the side as if in confusion.

“The hell do you want? I was in the middle of ordering something horrid and greasy after having to stay here of all places, and then your selfish self just had to come along and ruin what was already a terrible night. What about how I feel?!” Sparda yelled out then in frustration, a finger coming up as he pushed against the Demon’s chest with a childish pout, but a hand was held coiled around his back.

It was then as the Demon stiffened and a wave of red energy coursed around it’s left hand, that Sparda suddenly pulled free the Devil Sword of his own creation, the blade glowing a fierce violet as he plunged it clear through the Demon’s chest.

“Shouldn’t have broken my phone, go back to Hell you fucking asshole.” Sparda merely growled out as he pulled his blade free, the Demon falling to the ground as dark blood flowed free from it’s chest.

Believing it to be over, Sparda began to walk from the room with his head held high, only to hear a rumbling noise echo out into the night as the floor began to shake. 

A distorted and horrible voice.

**“Must… Kill… SPARDA!”**

And there was the Demon, standing at attention and practically pristine as it now held a long and unwieldy blade, a glimmering splinter of energy resting in the center.

And on the Demon’s face, rested a terrifying smile with blade-like teeth streaked with blood and practically salivating in his direction.

“Ah, determined bastard. I would admire that, if you didn’t piss me off.” Sparda said with a dead tone as he once more reached for the cold orb of energy within him, urging and calling out to it to return, to once more aid him it’s strength.

Only to feel nothing at all, his true form locked away and exhausted as he even more now felt the fragile confines of his human form weighing on him.

The weight of all he had done, and how much he had cut away from himself, now finally highlighted as he felt every single jagged line on his soul that he had sliced away. 

In response, the Demon before him just laughed as Sparda’s grip fell slightly, finding it difficult to even keep his blade aloft, let alone swing it. 

“Oh yeah, laugh it up you son of a bitch, it’ll be your head that I leave on the front desk.” 

And with that, against his better judgment and ignoring the pain and burning agony within his chest, Sparda swung his blade at the Demon, his eyes a blazing purple as he sliced the Demon across the neck.

And found himself impaled upon the blade of his enemy, his silver blood trailing around the sword as his chest erupted in hellish flames.

With wide eyes, Sparda looked at the face of the Demon, his breath lost as he slowly fell further and further down onto the blade, an emptiness overcoming him as he began to feel numb and hollow.

However, it was as his eyes began to fall closed that he saw a speck of blue in that rage-filled crimson gaze, something so very familiar. 

“Ver...gil?”

* * *

_The Apostle_

* * *

A young woman stood without notice in the darkness, her form thin yet fierce as her armored form watched from above in a shadowy alcove.

Down below her, a wide set of doors swung open and a young man strode forward, his white hair practically a light within the darkness as his crimson suit clung to him like a second skin.

With their intruder’s identity confirmed, she pulled her scoped rifle from her back, and loaded a single scarlet round into the chamber as the man took step after step into the tower so casually.

With him in her sights, she merely aimed down at him as a vicious grin grew on her face.

The Son of Sparda, walking right into her web.

With a breath, she pulled the trigger as he just made it easier for her, stopping in place and practically taking all the challenge out of it.

She could only laugh then, as the seemingly immortal Cambion fell to the ground, her Holy Shot round (Taken from his own allies as well) burned its way through his skull, his form wild and convulsing from the energies before falling limp on the once elegant hardwood floors. 

Climbing down from her post, she strode over to his body, taking note of his still chest, not a single breath falling past those oddly seductive lips.

With a finger pressed to his neck, she confirmed it as his skin began to cool under her touch.

She had killed the Hell Hunter himself, his shiny gun lying uselessly by his side. 

“Jackpot.” She said aloud to herself as she began to walk off through the tower, her heeled boots clicking in the utter silence around her.

Until she heard a groan of pain.

She froze in place, her gaze slowly turning back around as she saw the dead man rise from the ground, his eyes opening in annoyance as a furious sneer appeared on his face.

She could only watch in astonishment and horror as a hole began to form on his forehead as the sizzling tip of the Holy Shot round was pushed right out of his skull, the round fizzing like a flare on the ground as his forehead began to heal before her very eyes.

With an exhausted stance, the man pulled free a large broadsword then, the lion face on the hilt almost angry as the sound of a roar echoed through the tower, it’s wielder just as furious. 

“That’s… my line, you bitch.” 


	14. Frostbitten

**Life 80: Jackpot**

* * *

**1\. July. PM. 1:24. 1982**

**Temen-ni-gru, New York City**

* * *

I have died and felt that familiar cold drift closer far too many times, and had suffered in so many different ways that I didn’t think any unfamiliar injury could occur.

I have been stabbed, burned, drowned, torn apart, melted, blown up, and had my literal life essence ripped clean out of my body and forced onto the next life.

I hadn’t been sniped by a bullet that was literally blessed by God before, nor faced an attempted assasination by a woman in a Power Ranger costume. 

_Wait… If I killed Chuck, who gave power to the Grandmaster’s blessing?_ I wondered then as I felt the piercing pain in my skull as a headache worse than any other begin to bloom, an empty hole in my brain making itself known like a sore in the mouth.

Unavoidable and very noticeable.

However, my eyes trailed to my assailant as I felt the comforting warmth of Godric’s hilt burn away at the chilling cold within me, that horrible feeling of wrongness being driven away as the blade began to roar with pure power.

It was a woman, that much was clear from the voice and frame, her body clad in a form fitting stealth suit of pure black, the only noticeable details being the piercing white eyes on her mask, and the wide array of weaponry strapped all across her.

Throwing knives at the wrists, pistols at her waist, grenades across her chest, and some sort of… presence on her back, one which I couldn’t really look at, like a kind of Notice-Me-Not.

However, as I used Godric as a crutch to recharge and grabbed Salazar from the ground, my enemy seemed to shake off her surprise as she pulled forth a glowing red blade from behind her back. 

_Ah, a dimensional field utilized for storage, kinda like the Armiger I would bet._ I realized as she held the blade aloft, its edge practically screaming as burning sparks flew from it, and for good measure she pulled free a rifle that she held just as easily in one hand as others would in two.

“You like a bit of both worlds, don’t you? Blade or gun? Why not both?!” I called out then as we began to circle around each other, my ice blue eyes meeting her cold and unfeeling gaze as I could practically feel the predatory vibe she was giving off.

She wanted me to strike first. 

“You talked earlier, what’s the matter doll face? Can’t handle a guy when he’s breathing?” I said with a tired grin then as the eyes on her mask narrowed and I shifted Salazar to my opposite hand, following her example of blade and firearm.

“Well, let’s dance, shall we?” 

In a flash of movement, the woman was gone from her spot and that burning blade found it’s way to my face, an inch away from skewering me and finishing the job that her bullet had failed to.

I just smiled. 

“Barrier.” 

With the spell cast so cheerfully, a vibrant and humming silver shield burned into existence as she was thrown backwards, her blade going flying as I let the shield shatter away as I held Salazar towards her.

I was enjoying this a little, if I had to admit, but I was not willing to let her stop me.

“Listen, I don’t want to kill you lady, but I gotta bring this tower down or the world’s not going to be a world anymore, it’s nothing personal.” I spoke diplomatically then, resting Godric against my shoulder as I lowered the gun a little, trying to at least give her a chance to step aside.

She picked herself up quickly then, the mask on her suit splintering just the smallest amount as I saw a quick glimpse of blood red through the cracks. 

Her blade forgotten, she merely rose to her feet as she absentmindedly reached a hand behind her back, likely going for another weapon. 

I aimed once more at her, only to freeze as she pulled out a literal missile launcher, the glint of a rocket within almost taunting me as she just aimed at me, and I knew under that mask she was smiling. 

Okay, her gun was bigger.

It was then that she pulled the trigger and the thing came blasting at me faster than I could even hope to dodge.

“Oh that’s just cheating.”

* * *

I will admit, she might be the one person to be a better shot than me as I had to pull off some impressive maneuvers just to avoid those damn missiles of hers, the launcher seemingly limitless as she blasted the entrance hall around us to smithereens as I actually struggled to keep ahead of her movements.

I knew for a fact that I could probably survive being blown up, but I also knew it wouldn’t be an enjoyable experience, so I kept on the move and peppered her with shots when I could.

I could only look on in confusion as that suit of hers seemed to melt the shots down into a dark sludge, blessed bullets proving themselves useless against this odd adversary of mine. 

“Tell you what Sweetie!” I called out as I actually had to apparate to avoid a sudden shot from her, the edge of my blazer being burnt to cinders as I shifted myself through the air. 

“If you put down the fucking missile launcher, we can have a nice chat and talk about why you’re even stopping me! You’re a Human! This tower will destroy Humanity!” I screamed out in frustration as I was a little too slow and could only grunt in pain as I felt the ensuing explosion knock Godric from my grip, along with most of my fingers. 

Holding my bloodied hand to my chest and my left with Salazar wavering, I growled aloud as a burning rage began to bubble within me, the wings I had called out days before beginning to peek out from behind my back. 

“You know what? I tried to show restraint, mercy, because you’re a Human. I’m the good guy, I save people, not kill them... But you know what? I’m done with you.” I said with a cold snarl as my fingers began to regrow in a second, and whereas I was across from her a mere moment ago, I now stood behind her, my hand firmly around her neck. 

I held her into the air then, her fragile neck within my grip as I applied just enough pressure to cut off her air flow.

Not enough to suffocate, merely incapacitate. 

I barely even noticed as she stabbed that burning blade of hers into my chest, her hands shaking and desperate as she drove it through my heart and out through my back. 

When I felt her go limp, her heart still strong and beating, I threw her aside as I stumbled a little bit.

She had taken a little too much out of me, let alone forcing me to rip yet another blade out of my chest. You would think it would get easier, but each hurt just as much as the last. 

Of course, I had barely even tapped into my abilities, believing it would be better not to kill a Human, even a bitch of one.

Moreover, I was just tired, physically and mentally. And yet, I opened the wooden door before me and continued on into the tower.

I have climbed too many demonic towers, that is to be sure.

The next one better have an elevator.

* * *

The halls were oddly quiet as I steadily moved forward, my only breaks being to dispatch the many foolish Demons that rushed forward, even vanishing a few of them as my frustration grew.

I was debating just leaving and flying up to the top of the damn tower, but I knew it would not be that simple as Sparda’s enchantment likely prevented that. If one wanted to utilize the tower, they likely had to scale the entire thing, floor by floor.

Hell had a really bad interior decorating scheme, and it appears that they all keep using it… 

However, I was confused when eventually the floor after floor of endless waves gave way to a massive door, the wood on it gnarled and clawed as if some great beast had gone to war against it and the door had barely won.

Ignoring that little voice in the back of my head that sounded surprisingly like my mother, I merely blew the doors open with a blast of energy and strolled in, expecting the worst and ready for even more after that.

And yet, I found myself in a glacier of a room, the set of doors at the far edge encased entirely in ice as the walls around me suffered from the same exposure, a chill coming over me that I could only shiver from as I cast a warming charm without much thought. 

The room was frozen and still, and I could only narrow my eyes at a large and dark shape within the frost, the shape odd and strange as I stepped closer to get a better look at it. 

The thing had to be the size of a double-decker bus, easily, and it still had frozen solid and floated trapped within. 

And yet, as I stepped closer to the icy door beyond, flames burning at my hands and ready to melt my way out, I felt the room shake and rumble as the world around me began to grow violent.

Cracks like cobwebs spread across the room as the ice began to break and shudder, that mysterious shape moving from within as I drew Godric once more, it’s heat more than welcome against whatever frozen monstrosity made itself known. 

And monstrosity wasn’t too far off the money as the beast suddenly burst forward from the ice in a rain of frost, the monster being way too familiar for me to mistake it for anything else. 

“Is that you Fluffy? My word, someone’s been over feeding you.” I said with a snarky grin as the largest Cerberus I had ever seen made itself known, it’s three heads shaking off ice as all six eyes looked at me in fury and rage as it began to snarl and bare it’s teeth. 

Each fang stood taller than me, and each made Godric and Rebellion look like toothpicks, black sludge-like slobber falling over it’s teeth as it stalked closer to me with unveiled menace. 

And then it talked. 

“Leave now, mortal! The likes of you are forbidden in this land. You, who are powerless, are not worthy to set foot here!” It screamed out from all three heads, the voices blending together as one as it strode towards me, my sword looking a lot less impressive next to the literal beast of the Underworld.

But I was a lot more than just a Cambion with a sword. 

“Powerless… Buddy, do you even know who I am? I bitch slapped Hades, I killed God, I created the Big Mac! You’re literally nothing compared to me.” I laughed aloud then, my tension flowing free as I began to lean on Godric’s pommel as the beast just glared at me with unholy outrage flooding it’s dark eyes.

“You, a mere human, make a mockery of me?” It demanded of me then as it moved even closer to me, the smell of brimstone becoming overbearing as the Cerberus literally towered over me with it’s acid-like slobber beginning to burn away at the stone beneath us. 

“Wow, you really don’t know who I am. I’m kinda a Pseudo-Immortal, but that’s just semantics at this point. I also own shares in Wendy’s, but don’t tell anyone.” I said with a grin and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin as the Cerberus launched itself backwards and with a large bark, let free a meteor of frost behind me, the ice firmly encasing the door I came in from with a thick layer.

I was trapped.

“You really want to die that much? My uncle’s kinda running Hell, and I doubt he’ll go easy on you, but you can totally give up now.” I said with a cheeky smile as I knew I’d be fighting this thing one way or another, the bad guys never give up when you give them the chance. 

“You'll regret this you worm!“ It roared out as it began to race forward at me, a blast of ice began shooting from it’s mouth as it came ever closer to clash against a wall of light courtesy of yours truly. 

“Bring it puppy, I’m looking forward to putting you down.”

* * *

Okay, I don’t really know what’s worse, dodging missiles or dodging beams of ice and gnashing teeth that might just do even more damage than that Power Ranger could. 

And yet, I was enjoying myself as very rarely did I get to engage in what I used to call a boss battle, just me and a good old monster duking it out.

No complex moral choices, no mercy need be considered as I fought against a beast that desired my blood.

I missed the simplicity of it all, and this was a good return to form.

“I SHALL FEAST ON YOUR BONES!” The Cerberus boomed loudly as I leapt out of the reach of it’s teeth, my free hand flying forward to vanish a few of them and driving the beast further and further into a mindless rage.

“I mean, a growing doggy like you needs something to chew on, don’t ya buddy!” I said in turn as I just dodged another blast from the beast, my eyes focusing not on the beams but instead on the third of the beast’s heads, one that now stared at me through narrowed eyes, exhaustion clear to see on it.

I let loose steady fire from Salazar as I jumped from spot to spot, beams of ice missing me by mere inches as I shot forward in a rush, Godric slashing out whenever the heads got too close.

If I was forced to play from a distance, so must this overgrown bulldog. 

It was as a Holy Shot hit the third head in the eye and the beast began to go into a frenzy, that I made a quick decision and remembered some wise words from long ago.

_“Decapitation usually works, just do that when in doubt.”_

With a wily smirk, I disappeared from my spot and flickered from place to place until I found myself on the beast’s back, it’s necks stretched out before me as I looked between them.

It was hard to choose after all, all three necks were ripe for the ganking.

Holding Godric with one hand as I held on with the other, I began to channel energy into the blade, a spell I had not often used in my lives, but one I felt fitting against this snow dog. 

“Fiendfyre.” 

With that utterance, an unnatural and unholy flame began to course along the blade’s edge as I swept it downwards to sever the weakened head clean from the Cerberus’ body, the ground shaking as it fell heavily to the ground and the beast gave an agonizing scream. 

With no time to spare, I sliced the other off as the beast began to convulse and shake as I was thrown from it and it let loose a horrid and pain filled scream.

Walking up to it slowly, I let my sword sweep across the floor as the flame began to dance through the air, flaming images of Demons and monsters forming within the fire as they hungered for blood and souls.

“Now only one remains, still up for making me pay buddy?” I asked it then as no humor rested in my voice, the beast looked at me with a hard gaze in return as I could see the rage in it’s eyes. 

“You are not a human, are you?” It asked me then as I could only nod, Godric returning to normal as I brought the hellish flames back within me and I stood before the Cerberus with an equally sharp look.

“I already said I wasn’t. I’m the son of Sparda, and a whole lot more.” I said simply as I was surprised to see the beast bow before me, the thing’s head lowered in submission.

“Regardless, you have proved your strength. I acknowledge your ability. Take my soul and go forth. You have my blessing.” It said softly before it’s body began to disappear and flow away like ashes as I took notice of what seemed to be a bundle of blades.

Throwing knives, from what I remembered of Ignis’ lessons, sharp and precise. 

However, I was surprised to see that they were infused with the frost aura of the fallen Cerberus, it’s soul encased within them as it’s power focused inward and it functioned as a Focus of sorts.

Tucking most of them within my inner coat pocket, I held one in my hand and mused over it and looked towards the exit still encased in ice.

Almost lazily, I threw the knife forward as it soared unnaturally fast before shattering its way clean through the frost, and… it began to absorb the ice from the room.

Within seconds, any sign that the room had been frozen over was gone, and my new throwing knife was impaled in the wood of the door. 

Taking great care to pull it free, I could only smile down at it. 

“Oh Cerberus, I think we’re going to have a great time together.” 

And with that, I moved on.

* * *

_Charlotte_

* * *

**PM. 8:54**

**Red Grave City, United States**

* * *

Charlotte had worried greatly when Mr. Sparda had left and Ms. Eva had basically locked herself away in the library, but she had resolved herself to leave only to find the estate’s guards much more attentive than they usually were. 

However, the night after she had managed to find her way out of her window and through a broken panel of the garden’s gate, that voice in her head pushing her forward as she ignored the way the dirt and wood scratched at her dress as she pushed through the gap that wasn’t made for her. 

Her perseverance won out though and she found herself outside the estate, the dark of an oak tree falling over her as she looked out over the city, the lights and sites illuminated to her in a way they never had before. 

It was beautiful, but she knew she couldn’t stay and admire the sight, as no doubt they would notice she was gone and come after her.

She didn’t want that, for them to worry about her. She just wanted them to forget about her, as she had put enough strain on their lives already, they shouldn’t have to deal with her… 

It was then, with fear and worry in her mind and with bare feet, that she began to make her way down the hill of the Sparda estate and into the city of Red Grave, a place she had only ever seen through panes of glass and in shadowy memories.

“ **You must fulfill your purpose child.”** That same voice insisted in her mind, her arms shivering as she moved ever forward, the wind whipping against her as if she had offended it personally.

“I don’t even know what that is…” She muttered under her breath as she felt a burning behind her eyes, that same feeling as when the voice spoke and when the scales grew… She had hated her claws, and now she wore horrid gloves of scales and ugly skin that looked more at home on a dragon than a child.

 **“You shall discover it in time, but do not put trust in the Hell Hunter, he shall only destroy you if he knew the truth.”** That horrible voice said again as she could almost imagine him smiling at her as she only teared up at his harsh tone, and she didn’t even understand what he was saying.

What was a Hell Hunter, and what was this truth? She didn't want to be destroyed… 

“Shut up, you’re not even real…” She practically begged the voice then as she finally reached the streets, the lush land traded in for harsh asphalt and darkened buildings. 

**“Oh Charlotte, I am more real than you are.”**

She froze as she felt this horrible feeling overwhelm her as if someone else was inside her body, not taking control, but just… making themselves known.

It was like sleeping in a sleeping bag with someone else, there wasn’t enough room and all you could feel was them pressed up against you.

She could barely breath as this overwhelming presence drove her to her knees, her hands coming up to shield her face as she collapsed to the street. 

As tears streamed down her face and her mind began to crack under the harsh hand of her mental invader, she saw a man appear before her.

He was tall and well dressed, a fine suit on his form as he looked down at her, yet… she knew he wasn’t really there, his form flickering before her eyes like a ghost.

His eyes were a burning scarlet, like fire pressed into gems as he smiled this cold and sharp toothed grin at her, his eyes mocking her as he knelt down beside her.

And yet, as this man made himself known, she felt a horrible and agonizing pain worse than any other and could barely move, the demonic taint on her arms growing and shifting as it consumed more and more of her pale flesh.

 **“You see, child. I’ll tell you the truth.”** The Wrong-Man said then as that terrible smile grew wider and he nudged her to the ground with his shoe, any attempt to stand flattened as she could only look to him and pray for mercy as she felt her body go limp.

He leaned over her then, his eyes burning their way through her mind as she screamed without sound, begging to be anywhere but lying before him.

To see anything but his consuming, all knowing eyes as her body began to give into the tainted blood she had been born with. 

**“I am your real father.”**

And with that truth finally laid before her, the world went dark and Charlotte fell from the world of light.

She would awoke in one far, far worse. 

**“You will be beautiful.”**


End file.
